


The Nothingness of Stars

by MermaidsandMermen (SophiaSoames)



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Because we love angst. Don't we?, Cameraman Even, Collapse due to illness, Evak Endgame, Fluff and sass and smut, Happy ending guaranteed. There will be no pain here., M/M, Major Illness, Older Evak, Starlight and paparazzi, actor! Isak, and a pinch of angst., beards and fake relationships, fluff and bedsharing and more fluff and cuddles and smut.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-03-04 20:37:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 49,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13372611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophiaSoames/pseuds/MermaidsandMermen
Summary: Isak Valtersen has more money than sense, more fame than he ever asked for and zero friends. He has kind of fucked that all up by employing the few friends that have stuck by him, and now he is stuck in this surreal pseudo existence where he can barely function as a human being anymore. It sucks. It sucks a lot.Even Bech Næsheim's life is over. Well what more can you say when you have just been epically sacked from the 25 million dollar production of ''The Darkest Time''. This was Even's year. His film. His time to shine.Instead he has been forced to go and babysit some arsehole actor for the last couple of weeks of this promotional tour. 5 weeks of hell watching some kid spew rubbish in interviews and swan around on red carpets. Even can't think of anything worse.It's only 5 weeks. And it's not like Even has anywhere better to be.Tweet me @sophiasoames, or find me on insta or tumblr. Be kind, be nice, always. S xxx





	1. ONE

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to ''The nothingness of Stars!''. Also known as ''En pompøs skit-fic''. But I couldn't quite name it that could I. 
> 
> I hope you will like it as much as I do, and excuse the bad graphics. I am really crap at making manips! Help!!
> 
> So Let's follow the boys as they head of on this promotional tour shall we? Slightly inspired by The ''Call be my your name'' boys antics, but then not at all. Because Armie Hammer is yum. OK? 
> 
> Here we go....

 

He shudders and wraps the thin threadbare excuse for a blanket around his shoulders.

Its cold. It’s so freaking cold.

 

He knows OK? This is not the first time Even has travelled across the Atlantic Ocean in a metal tube. He has racked up more airmiles than most frequent travellers in the last 10 years, jetting backwards and forwards between jobs. He knows the backlots of studios around the world like he lives there. He is on first name basis with the reception staff at the hotels he frequents. The Barista-dude in Starbucks on 57th street in New York added him on Facebook for fuck’s sake.

Well that was after Even eloquently blew him in the staff toilets. It wasn’t his finest moment. Neither is this.

 

He feels sick to his stomach. Truly.

 

‘’I’m 29 years old. And my life is over.’’

 

He didn’t mean to say that out loud, but when he speaks to himself things become real. They are no longer something in his head he can ignore. Something that he can convince himself isn’t the truth. Saying the words out loud makes things real. Honest. True to life. And terrifying.

 

He finds himself back in the same place every time he closes his eyes. Being surrounded by executives in suits scowling at him, rolling their eyes at the figures being thrown around the room. He can still picture the cracks in the walls of the conference suite. The cobwebs above the blinds covering the windows. The coldness of the breeze humming from the air-conditioning units above his head.

‘’A 250000-dollar scene Næsheim. A monumental fuckup. The insurers won’t pay out. The actors are threatening to pull out. The investors are running for the hills.’’

 

The producer had been in tears. The director of Photography wouldn’t even look him in the eye.

 

 And it was all down to him. There was no other truth behind it.

 

He had tried to hide it for as long as he could. Ignored the headaches that blinded him at times. Ignored the blurry areas at the edge of his vision. Ignored that most of the time he couldn’t even read a few lines from a white piece of paper before having to close his eyes and take a deep breath.

His eyes were fucked. He should have seen it coming. The laughter spilling out of his mouth is just pathetic. He knew there was something wrong, he was just too busy working and too good at telling himself that it was nothing. Just take few pills. As always Even was just too enthralled with the amazing project he had been entrusted.

 

It was a total miscalculation. Some beginner’s mistake. He just missed it. Because he couldn’t fucking see what the hell he was doing.

 

The pivotal stunt scene should have been a walk in the park. He had two very able assistants there to double check his every move, yet he fucked it all up. The assistants had been the first people to stab him in the back, expressing concerns about his vision and his abilities. Some bloody friends those two had turned out to be.

 

He knows they can’t use any of the footage, even though the angle was right. He knows it was a one-off shot. He knows the migraine blinding him that day was the worst he has ever had, yet he was too stupid, too proud, too pig-headed to pull the stops on himself. It was his gig. His show. His bloody masterpiece.

 

At 29 years old, Even Bech Næsheim, lead Camera operator for the 25 million epic production of ‘’The Darkest Time’’ was fired. Epically and permanently. In the industry and particularly in his line of work that was a death sentence. He would be lucky if he would even find a job filming a nursery school nativity play with that on his resume.

 

And yet here he is flying out to some God-forsaken town in Canada to babysit the star of the moment. The Darling of the acting industry. The diva of the gossip rags. Some spoilt brat with a knack for looking distraught on screen who wins like all the awards every time his movies hit the big screen. For what? It’s not like the dude has talent.

Well Even might be a little bit mean there. He did actually watch the trilogy of the ‘’Angel of Mercy’’ films, where the dude did look particularly surly and edible with that black leather jacket over his ruffled angel-wings (9 hours of Even’s life that he will never get back) and he was contemplating trying to watch the latest 2-hour ‘’Erotic thriller’’ that the Dude is out promoting. He was even sent a preview file along with the instructions for his new assignment.

 

‘’The Nothingness of Light’’. Some pompous sounding twatty film no doubt. He would have watched it. It’s just his eyesight is fucked. Yeah. Thanks for reminding him.

 

The recent surgery will have helped relieve some of the pressure on his eyes, but it will take months before he knows how much of his vision can be saved. Fucking blood pressure and nerve endings and blood vessels-of-doom and his fucked-up eyeballs-from-hell.

 

‘’It will be a walk in the park for you’’ the Human resources lady at the office had smiled. Smarmily. He knew every word out of her mouth was just lies. The studio couldn’t just sack him.

‘’Alternative employment must be offered that is suitable for someone with your particular disability.’’ She had placed her hand supportively on his forearm. Trying to look concerned. Whilst Even had had to bite his tongue until he tasted blood not to punch a hole right through the cheap desk in front of him.

‘’You are well versed in the industry and the way things work during a promotional tour. This particular tour has only got 5 more major dates, over a few weeks. All you need to do is assist Mr Valtersen with his professional duties and ensure he has everything he needs in conjunction with his private team. ‘’

‘’And what happened to his previous PA?’’ Even had snarled out. ‘’Got the sack for ill health?’’

‘’Mr Bech.’’ The Human-Resources woman had sighed.

‘’Mr Bech Næsheim’’ Even had grunted. He would have stared at her, but the dark glasses protecting his fragile vision made staring contests a little hard. And he was the fucking master of staring people in the eye and tipping them just enough of their high horses to peg them down a few notches. Now all he could do was sit there and chew his lips and bite his fucking tongue.

‘’Mr Valtersen has his own very particular ways of working that doesn’t suit just anyone. The previous PA left for personal reasons, and between me and you, I would not work for Mr Valtersen if he was the last employer on the planet, but I am sure you can handle him. I believe he is Scandinavian born, and you are from somewhere around there originally? Right?’’

She had barely looked up from her notes and Even had just shook his head. He couldn’t even be bothered to engage. He has been away from Norway for so long now he barely knows what nationality he is supposed to be anymore.

 

‘’ It’s a five-week gig, all expenses paid and you are not quite in the position to refuse this offer of employment, are you Mr Bech?’’

‘’Bech Næsheim’’ There was the taste of blood in his mouth again. Metallic warmth at the side of his tongue.

‘’We will fly you out to Toronto tomorrow bright and Early. Mr Valtersen’s security team will arrange to collect you and you will accompany Mr Valtersen to the Toronto Film Festival over the weekend. All details will be emailed to you in a format suitable for the Audiable-app on your phone, so you can have them read out to you at your convenience. Any questions Mr Bech?’’

Even had just walked out.

 

He had spent years honing his craft. He was made for Camera work. He loved it. Adored it.

Babysitting a kid with attitude and being someone’s dogsbody was for newbies. Keen and fresh-faced interns who would do anything to work in the presence of movie stars and get names on their CV’s. Even has a degree in cinematic production. Almost 10 years in the bag. 14 feature films under his belt. 3 major awards for his craft. Worth fuck all when you can barely see the time on your watch. Unless you squint. And hold your watch as far away from you as possible like an idiot.

 

3 more hours of the flight to go and Even is frozen to the bone. He needs to sleep. He needs to somehow get warm. He needs his life back.

 

His distance vision is good enough that he knows it’s a Cabin-crew member walking towards him and he waves pathetically and asks for a cup of tea. Like a proper Brit. He has spent enough time in the UK to appreciate a good brew, and to become a bit of a coffee snob at home. He likes his coffee strong and dark. His tea thick enough to please the most hardnosed builder. And he likes to dunk his biscuits. Properly.

 

The steaming hot tea seems to help a little bit, at least his hands have stopped shaking and his shoulders are starting to relax. He sips the tea and feels like crying.

This is not what his life was supposed to be. This was supposed to be his year. His film. His awards.

 

The pressure is back behind his eyes and he takes a deep breath as he fumbles in his pockets for his migraine tablets. 4 times a day. Along with the blood pressure medication and the statins and the rest of the mini pharmacy he carries along these days to ensure he can get up in the morning. Put one foot in front of the other without falling over.

 

‘’Would you like another cup of tea?’’ the Stewardess asks, patting him gently on the arm. He nods.

Sometimes the dark glasses are good. Because they hide the tears that are rolling down his cheeks.

 

 


	2. TWO

 

‘’Hi. I’m Isak.’’

Isak tries a smile in the mirror but it comes out like a growl. He looks deranged. Angry. A little bit like a vampire trying to suck blood out of his own lips. It’s not good.

‘’Hi, Isak Valtersen’’ He tries smiling again. Fuck. He doesn’t feel it. He hates this crap.

 

He feels safe when he has a role to play, because being someone else is easy. He knows exactly what the director wants out of him. Need fragile and crying? Here you are. Angry? How angry do you want me to be? And the people around him kind of expect him to be moody and grumpy and a bit of a movie star. He doesn’t have to pretend, he knows he comes with the reputation from hell, but the directors know he will deliver. He always does. It’s simple. Easy.

 

What is not so easy is real life. He knows Sana means well when she meticulously micromanages every inch of his life down to sorting him out with a girlfriend who will smile and look like she is in love with him. To be honest Isak is terrified of Emma. He hasn’t even said two words to her in private, and whenever their audience is not paying attention she is either totally ignoring him or snarling at her own assistant. Some blonde terrified woman with a clipboard who looks like she is about to cry.

 

Not that Isak is any better, but this latest dude they sent in to baby-sit him? Seriously? The guy spent the first week being totally star struck and barely opening his mouth, and then when Isak was pissed off at the world and shouted at him he fucking shouted back like Isak had molested him or some shit. Isak didn’t lift a finger. OK? He had just shouted at the dude because he was fucking useless.

He has promised Jonas to try harder with this one, this new bloke they are flying in. Even something. Norwegian, so that should help. He hopes.

 

Isak hasn’t got any friends. Zero. Zilch. He is slightly fucked in the friends department. It could be because he has kind of employed every single one of them. He has gone from being quite a nice normal bloke with a load of sane friends, to this idiot he has become who has to pay people to stick around. Not that Jonas would leave him. He keeps telling Isak he would still do this for free. Travelling around the world making sure Isak is safe. Because that is what he, Magnus and Mahdi do. Every day.

 

Well he wonders about Magnus sometimes, as Magnus pushes him through the gruelling daily workout sessions they share. Isak used to have a personal trainer. He had quite a few personal trainers, and he hated them all after a few weeks. Detested their well-meaning exercises and pompous promises and workout schedules and freaking muscle-mass diets.

He knows what he needs to do to keep his body in shape. And giving Magnus a raise as long as he promised to work out with Isak and not let him get away with slacking in the gym department turned out to be a solid investment. Magnus calls him every rude name under the sun whilst he makes him sweat under the weights in the temporary gyms he finds them around the world. And Isak calls him every insulting name he can muster up. In several languages. And Magnus still hugs him at the end of the day. Tucks him into bed like a child when life is too much. Stays with him long into the night when Isak knows Magnus should be in his own bed, on the phone to his wife and kids. Not here with Isak in some old-fashioned shithole of a hotel in Toronto.

 

The hotel is haunted, Isak is quite sure of it. It’s old and pompous and the paint is chipped on the door to the bathroom and everything creaks. Isak hates noises. He hates earplugs. He hates having all these hates and dislikes but he can’t help it. Stuff makes him nervous. Life makes him anxious. Sleep is for weaklings. Yet Isak is the weakest of them all. He can’t sleep, he never could.

 

‘’Do you want me to leave you some sleeping pills tonight?’’ Jonas asks as he lets himself in to Isak’s suite. They gave him a suite. He hates suites.

 

Isak likes small normal rooms with one door he can lock. No connecting doors. No bloody balconies and roof gardens and living rooms and spaces. He hates large spaces he can’t control. No one room with a tiny toilet will do Isak just fine, yet Hotels keep upgrading him to these ridiculous apartment things when all Isak wants is a tiny room with a comfy bed. It’s not much to ask. Really.

 

‘’Yeah. Maybe. No. When is this new dude coming?’’ Isak is pacing the floorspace. Up and down. Backwards and forwards. Swinging his arms around.

‘’I’m picking him up in 40 minutes. I’ll be back. Mahdi is next door, do you want him to come and sit with you for a while?’’ Jonas is buttoning up his coat. Pulling a hat over his head.

Isak just shakes his head. ‘’I’ll just stay here for a while. Will you stay in the other room tonight?’’

 

He is needy like a child when it comes to being alone. He has never been good with his own company, but it’s getting worse. Especially in hotels and unfamiliar places.

 

‘’I have a thing tonight I need to sort Isak, and a load of work to do for Chicago, but I thought we would put Even in the other room, so you can have a chat and get to know eachother?’’

‘’I don’t like new people’’ Isak mutters.

‘’He sounded nice. He has worked as a cameraman for years, done some big films. He won’t be intimidated by your antics Ize, so don’t even think about playing any pranks. ‘’

‘’And you said he can’t see?’’

‘’He has some serious stuff wrong with his eyes. ‘’ Jonas shakes his head. Muttering under his breath.

‘’So not only do you have to put up with me, now we are dragging some blind dude around too? Who the hell employed him?’’

‘’Paramount. You are still under contract with them, and its their way of keeping an eye on you. You know the rules Ize. ‘’

‘’Don’t call me Ize. It sounds twatty in Norwegian.’’ Isak throws himself down on one of the random oversized chairs. Put’s his feet, still wearing shoes, up on the ridiculous looking fancy coffee table.

‘’Take your fucking shoes off inside Ize. It’s disgusting.’’ Jonas sighs and arches an eyebrow at Isak who toes his shoes off and lets them fall to the floor whilst giving Jonas the look. The ‘’don’t tell me what to do’’ look. Whilst Jonas does the ‘’Dad face’’ and Isak just rolls his eyes.

 

They do this all the time, and to be honest it’s comforting.

 

‘’We need to get you laid Ize. You need to relax for a bit and get out of this rut. It’s no good for you being this tense.’’ Jonas takes a seat on the top of the coffee table, the glass top creaking under the weight of him as he sits down.

‘’I don’t want to.’’ Isak says, pouting. He doesn’t. Honestly.

‘’ You know I can arrange anything you want. Discreet and anonymously. It’s been ages since you had a night where you could just have a bit of release. Chill out a bit. I can get you some weed? Just to take the edge of things?’’

‘’You are supposed to keep me on the straight and narrow Jonas, not get me high and tied up in knots by some prostitute.’’

‘’It’s nothing we haven’t done before. It works, remember? You chill out for a few days after a good party.’’

‘’I’m not 20 anymore. I’m over all that. I’m over parties and random people and sex and drugs. It makes things go a way for a few hours and then what? I’m still me. Still a fucking mess Jonas. That won’t change.’’

‘’Did you think more about going back to therapy? Talking to a professional?’’ Jonas voice is calm. Soothing. Concerned.

‘’I can’t bear the freaking Americanisms. There is nothing fucking wrong with me that speaking to some stranger will fix. I am just lonely and nervous and a bit fucked in the head. It’s not going to go away any time soon. ‘’ Isak sinks back into the chair and lets his head fall back against the backrest.

‘’Isak, you are a multimillionaire and a well-respected actor. You are seriously talented, with the world at your feet. But we both know this is just temporary. We gave it 5 years when we were 16. Remember? We said we would do this for 5 years, and how long have we been on the road now? 13 years? ‘’

‘’Almost 14.’’ Isak sighs. ‘’I can’t believe we got away with it.’’

‘’My parents were bricking it, us going away on our own. You to do that first film, and me as your friend. I still laugh at you negotiating that in your contract. That you would only do the film if you got to bring me along to keep you company.’’

‘’I knew how boring my life would be without you. And come on, we had the best 3 years with Mrs Fossbakken and then Magnus. Just you, me and Magnus travelling the world, and Mrs F tutoring us through VGS. And she gave us bloody good grades for the crap we pulled. ‘’

‘’It was the best three years of my life. Well until we did ‘’Wonderland’’ in Sydney with that Cara chick. That was like. Wow. Still blows my mind thinking of the shit we got up to.

‘’Then Mahdi joined us the week after he took his final exams, and do you remember that phonecall he did to his mum? The one where he said he wouldn’t be coming back to start Uni?’’

 

Jonas laughter is genuine. The kind of laugh that makes Isak all calm.

 

‘’Yeah, and then his Mum demanded to speak to you alone and threatened to cut your balls of and stew them if you didn’t send her kid home in one piece.’’

It hadn’t been funny at the time, because Mahdi’s mum was pretty much terrifying when she was angry, but Isak doesn’t regret a thing. Not for a minute.

 

‘’You know we can stop this at any time. You say the word and we all pack up and go home. You know that Isak, don’t you? It’s always going to be your call.’’ Jonas voice is low, the way he speaks when he is serious.

‘’What would you do if we went back? You would have no income, and what the hell would I do?’’ Isak thinks about that a lot. How he stole away the chance of his friends getting an education and a normal life by just forcing them to stay. Offering them enough money that they wouldn’t have a choice.

 

‘’I haven’t spent a single krona of my income for the last couple of years Ize. I could kick back and do nothing for the rest of my life and I would probably still die a wealthy man. You have always looked after me and I would still look after you even if you gave me the sack and took all my credit cards away. I promise you. We would all be fine. Did Mahdi tell you he bought his sister a house? She cried like a baby apparently when the estate agent handed her the keys. You know Mahdi, he likes to set up these grand gestures, being totally over the top.’’

 

Jonas chuckles again. ‘’Fuck I have to go. Don’t want to leave the blind dude waiting in the terminal with no one there to pick him up. Just chill Isak. Have a glass of wine. Kick back and relax. I’ll be back in a while OK? Mahdi is next door and Magnus is checking out the venues for tomorrow dealing with all that. We’ve got you. Just chill, yeah?’’

 

Isak nods weakly. He hasn’t really got a choice. He has nowhere else to go but to stay here. Sit on this chair and count the minutes, hoping that he will somehow feel tired in a while and fall asleep. He would love to sleep. Not pace the room for hours trying to exhaust himself enough that his body will let him rest.

Sleep would be good. If only he could.

 


	3. THREE

 

Isak doesn’t pace the room.

Instead he takes a long hot bath, letting the TV rattle aimlessly on with ads and tinned laughter that is echoing from the room next door. Then he crawls out, dripping water all over the stupid posh marbled floor in the bathroom and goes in search of clothes.

 

Clothes should be a simple basic thing Isak thinks to himself. It’ just. Fuck.

 

There is a standard packing cube in the bedroom, but it’s the one with his formal wear. The one that Eskild, his stylist, stacks for him before every trip, with suits he is being contracted to wear and accessories that he is pretty much getting paid to be seen just holding in his hand. Well his assistant is supposed to sort all that out for him, posting appropriate personal pictures on his social media and tweeting his gratitude to the companies who sign up to give him free shit for the endorsement honours from Mr Isak Valtersen himself.

 

Isak wouldn’t know how to get on Twitter even if he had a gun to his head. It just doesn’t interest him. He doesn’t even go on social media anymore. Rarely even googles, unless he has to translate something.

 

Not that that helps when he has got no clothes.

 

Isak usually carries one bag of luggage, that his personal assistant will carry through for him, so Isak can look effortlessly cool when he walks through customs into the sea of paparazzi’s who are usually arranged to meet him. Sana says it’s part of the deal. He is on official Paramount business and they have to follow the rules.

When he travels on his own, privately, Jonas makes sure there is nobody there. A few people sometimes recognize him and ask for a selfie, but he has gotten good at blending in, especially with the boys in tow. A gang of misfits in normal clothing moving through an airport with their heads down doesn’t attract attention as such, but when he is working he has to look the part, back in his leather jackets and sunglasses and attitude and…. No bag. Because he hasn’t got a fucking assistant to pick it up for him.

 

Isak screams into thin air and stomps back into the living room, only to stumble to a halt at the sight of the dude standing there. A tall dude with wild hair and his coat hanging off his arm and a pair of serious sunglasses over his eyes.

 

‘’What the fuck?’’ Isak screeches.

 

‘’Put some fucking clothes on’’ the guy says in Norwegian. And Isak can’t help himself. He bursts out laughing in relief. Of course. For a second there Isak was having a mad panic about some crazy stalker fan breaking into his hotel room and he was just about to start screaming for Mahdi in a wild panic. When the dude spoke up.

 

‘’Hi!’’ he says. Because Isak Valtersen can be nice and normal and polite when he wants to.

‘’Mate, you are naked. Get some pants on and we will do introductions. Like normal people.’’ The dude sighs. He sounds tired. Fed up.

 

‘’Bullshit’’ Isak says. ‘’You are blind, how the fuck do you know that I am naked?’’

He is being blunt and insensitive. But hey. He is Isak Valtersen. Get fucking used to it.

 

‘’Not blind you arsehole.’’ The guy says and slowly takes his glasses off. Blinking helplessly into the soft light from the out of place posh accent lighting in the room. ‘’I can see fine, I am just very sensitive to bright light and my close-up vision is blurred around the edges and my distance vision is better with my glasses on but I can see enough to make out your cock. It’s a nice cock. Thank you for sharing. Now fucking get some pants on.’’

The guy throws his coat on a chair and toes his shoes off, then shuffles over to the sofa and throws himself down in a chair. Rubbing his eyes again and looking distraught.

Whilst Isak stares back like an idiot.

‘’I can’t find my bag.’’ He says weakly. ‘’I mean, I am not a total idiot. I had it when we checked in this morning, but I never picked it up from the baggage belt because my assistant usually does that and I kind of forgot that I didn’t have anyone to assist me since I sacked the last dude, or wait, he sacked himself if I remember rightly. He hated my guts, but its fine because I hated his guts to in the end so fair enough. I just need to find my bag and I will be happy to put pants on. All I have is a formal suit for tomorrow, and some frilly shirt I am supposed to wear for the interview we’re taping in the morning. I have nothing else. ‘’

Isak lets his hands fall to his sides. He talks with his hands a lot. It’s a side effect of his last role, where he played a real sassy character who never stood still when he talked. Isak kind of digs it.

‘’For God’s sake just stand still for a second.’’ The guy wipes his eyes again. Sounding tired. ‘’Bathrobe? Is there one in the bathroom?’’

 

Oh? Isak thinks. Good thinking. He swans off to the bathroom and returns embraced by white cotton fluffy towelling softness. Looking like and ad for washing powder or something.

 

‘’Better’’ The guy says and takes his glasses off again. Stands up and reaches his hand out to shake Isak’s, because Isak is being all polite. Nice. Shaking hands like a grown up.

 

‘’I’m Even and I am not here because I want to. I have no choice. So, I am sorry if you expected someone to come here and suck up to you for 5 weeks. I am just here for the job, so don’t come and throw demands at me. We are all adults and I’m sure you are grown up enough to fucking find your own bag. Worst case ring down and ask reception to buy you some underwear. Sort it out.’’

‘’Oh.’’ Isak says. Feeling like an idiot as he slumps down on the armchair opposite Even. It’s not comfortable. And if he puts his feet up on the coffee table Even will be able to look up his crotch. Not that that matters because Even has kind of seen him naked already.

 

‘’I’ve seen some of your films. I hated ‘’Phosphenes’’. Pompous piece of shit film. ‘’ Even is rambling on, he just can’t stop himself. He is pissed off, and the kid is just taking it. Sitting there looking a little bit crushed. He did have a nice cock though. Not that Isak Valtersen is gay. Well what does Even know. He has seen enough fucked up actors with their hired girlfriends and secret boyfriends, and actresses with all the wrong bits hidden away under cleverly designed straps. Nothing surprises him anymore.

 

‘’Phosphenes’’ landed me my first Oscar.’’ Isak says weakly. He is not used to people talking to him like this. Usually people just suck up to him and shower him in compliments. It’s all fake fake fake, he knows that but it still feels better than someone just bluntly hitting him over the head with truths. Because if Isak is very honest with himself he kind of agrees. ‘’Phosphenes’’ was a load of shite that nobody understood. Which is why they threw Oscars and awards at it. Load of pompous shite indeed.

 

‘’You are right though, it was shit. Did you like any of my films? Or do I just have to resign myself to knowing that you are not a fan and leave it at that? Isak sasses back, putting one leg over the other. Leaning back in the chair and crossing his arms over his chest.

‘’Angel of Mercy was OK’’ Even smirks. At least he thinks Even smirks. ‘’Haven’t watched this last film.’’ Even points to his eyes. ‘’Eyes are fucked. Can’t watch films anymore.’’

‘’You wont miss anything. It’s a drama about a defence lawyer who falls in love with the criminal he has just thrown in jail. A gay drama, with a sex-scene steamy enough to cause controversy and generate the buzz the film needs. It’s a good story and has caused ripples. Shame about Chris Schistad. He sucks in it. Dude is straight and cold as a fish between the sheets. You have never seen such wooden acting. They had to bring in a girl to warm him up before he got to kiss me. With his eyes closed. It was freaking painful if you ask me.’’ Isak winks.

‘’Seriously?’’ Even asks and rubs his eyes again. ‘’Sorry I need to put the glasses on again. Flying didn’t do my eyes any favours. They feel really sore.’’

‘’Your room is over there’’ Isak points. ‘’If you want to go to bed. I don’t sleep most of the time so I will be up most of the night.’’

‘’You need to sleep dude. Especially if we have this thing tomorrow, and your girlfriend is flying in, so I’m sure she will expect some action. ‘’ Even lowers his glasses and winks. ‘’The glasses suck but I need to use them. Sorry’’

‘’The girlfriend isn’t real so no action’’ Isak laughs. Then he blushes. He freaking blushes. Because it is not even funny how he kind of wants to come off as being just a nice normal bloke here. Sitting here like it is normal speaking Norwegian and actually having a chat. Like a normal person.

 

‘’Oh. No biggie’’ Even says. ‘’Would you mind if I ring down for a pot of tea?’’

Isak laughs. Like his life isn’t surreal enough.

‘’Knock yourself out.’’ He says. ‘’I like camomile tea, not that it helps me sleep but the taste is nice’’

‘’Ugh’’ Even laughs, and he actually sounds kind. Nice for a change. Like he has dropped a little bit of that tough man pissed off act he has been running with. Isak has seen it enough times. Even is probably not tough at all. He bets he sleeps with a teddy and reads himself a bedtime story at night. ‘’Camomile tea tastes like straw. I like real tea. Strong with milk and two sugars. ‘’

‘’I miss coffee. Like proper Norwegian coffee. Black and strong. Coffee out here is just like coloured water.’’ Isak doesn’t do small talk. He doesn’t confide in people.

‘’I love going back to Norway, I never do though. I haven’t got any family left, so it’s just me. My parents live in Saudi Arabia, my Dad works out there. My sister studies in China. So, I don’t have any reason to go home anymore.’’ Even is looking around the room, no doubt searching for a phone.

 

‘’I can ask Mahdi to ring down.’’ Isak offers.

‘’I know how to use the phone’’ Even huffs.

‘’Sorry’’ Isak says.

‘’I’m going to bed; this light is doing my head in.’’ Even says.

‘’Will you wake me up at 6? Magnus is taking me for a run before we go to the studio’’ Isak says.

‘’Set your fucking alarm. I’m not your babysitter’’

Then Even disappears into the bedroom. And Isak sits there like an idiot staring as the bedroom door closes behind him with a bang.

 

 


	4. FOUR

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow updates but I have been really busy with real life. Infinity will update next, and there should be an update on this too. Xxx

 

 

Isak wakes up with a jerk wild enough that he almost falls out of bed. One of those moments where his heart is beating out of his chest and his brain is working overtime trying to remember where he is and who he is supposed to be today.

He needs to go home, he knows that now. He wants to go home and camp out in his parents hytte outside Oslo, hidden away in the wilderness with nothing but the company of squirrels and field mice and the occasional fox traipsing across the front of the cottage. There are no people there. He could quite happily live there forever, trapped in the peace and quiet of a world where no one demands their piece of Isak Valtersen.

But not yet. He still has to finish this bloody promotional tour and then he has signed up for another blockbuster movie to start shooting in two months’ time. He just needs a break. A little breather. They all do.

He stumbles out of bed and almost knocks himself out on the toilet door that he thought would open inwards. Fucking sliding doors. The invention of Satan himself if nothing else he thinks as he rubs his forehead and recoils at the sight of himself in the mirror. He looks like shit. Dark circles under his eyes, his hair all over the place and now a nice red mark blooming on his forehead.

 

Thank God for Linn, his trusted make up artist. And a true artist she is, he tells her every day when she rocks up with a sigh and starts laying out her palettes across the space in front of him.

‘’You look like shit’’ she will say and sigh.

‘’I love you too’’ he will reply with a smile and she will roll her eyes and grab a fistful of his hair so she can get the hairband over his forehead.

‘’I hate you’’ she will snarl and do that deep sigh she does. And he will smile to himself in the mirror in front of him. She does hate him. Every little inch of him. Which is why she’s always agreeing to work with him and twirls her magic brush over him making him look like he has just woken up from a 12-hour restful sleep when in reality he looks like he has just been run over by a bus. She’s a genius. And he doesn’t deserve her.

 

He doesn’t deserve any of them he thinks as he stumbles out into the main room, tying the dressing gown around his waist as he goes.

‘’Morning sunshine’’ Magnus shouts and leans back in the chair, stretching his arms over his head.

‘’What time is it?’’ Isak mumbles as he tries to take in the scene in front of him. ''Weren't we supposed to run this morning Mags?''

''Yeah, but you were sleeping Ize. Like a baba. Didn't want to wake you, and then we got stuck sorting out all this shit.'' Magnus gestures in front of him.

There are prescription medicine packets spread out all over the table and Jonas and Even have their heads together infront of some online form muttering quietly as Mahdi counts out tablets in the packs.

‘’Customs declarations for crossing the border into The States tomorrow’’ Magnus sighs. ‘’This Even dude carries more meds than you do Isak. I am seriously wondering who is more fucked in the head, him or you.’’

‘’Nothing wrong with my head’’ Even sighs ‘’apart from my eyeballs.’’

‘’Balls’’ Magnus says, his cheeks hollowing.

‘’Dick’’ Isak retaliates and curls up on the sofa next to Mahdi.

‘’I’m fucked in the head’’ Linn says from behind him. Isak hadn’t even noticed.

‘’You’re not. I love you’’ Isak says, leaning back so he is almost upside down, smiling at Linn, who is spreading out brushes and packs of wipes on the table behind them.

‘’I’m tired. I need to go back to bed. Can you just come sit down so I can make you look reasonably decent before we have to go? Do you need to eat? I need you to eat before I do your foundation. Here, have a protein bar.’’

‘’Can’t live of protein bars. Can I order some oatmeal? I will eat it carefully whilst you do my hair.’’ Isak mutters, still not moving off the sofa.

‘’No time. These fuckers wouldn’t let me wake you earlier, so we are late. You are going to look like shit.’’

‘’Thanks Linn. I love you too.’’

‘’Fucking hate you Isak. You and your impossible hair and I can never get your skin tone right because you keep going outside with no sunscreen. You need to use sunscreen. That’s all I ask, but you never listen, because you don’t believe me. You are going to look like a burnt orange with this foundation. Skin like orange peel. Fucking ridiculous.’’

 

Isak almost bursts out laughing. It’s not often Linn talks this much, and Even is kind of staring at her through his dark glasses, Isak can tell.

Well most people do. Linn is special. Just like Isak. He loves her to bits, in all her monotone dull depressing tone of voice, her flat hair that she never does anything with and the constant scowl on her face. She’s been with him since she was a shy trainee on Isak’s first modelling assignment when he was 15, where she didn’t say a single word to him whilst transforming him to a shimmering elf like creature. A job that landed him an audition in Hollywood, and the start of his skyrocketing career. It was the first demand he had made, that Linn come out and do his hair and make-up. He had been a right diva from the start, but looking back he had made some solid choices. He has very few regrets, and that, is something he holds onto like a lifeline. His life has been good, because he has surrounded himself with the people who matter.

 

‘’Even’’ Isak says, his voice stern like a school teacher. ‘’Get me some fucking oatmeal mate?’’

Isak doesn’t know Even, but he already knows just asking will piss him off, he has that prickly vibe already, all tense in his shoulders huddled in next to Jonas, pointing at something on the screen in front of them. And Even was pretty clear last night expressing his disgust and unwillingness to be Isak’s dogsbody. So of course, Isak will have to fuck with him, because that is what Isak does best.

Messing with people’s heads, behaving like a teenager. Isak needs to grow up. He will start tomorrow he smirks to himself. Because right now the look on Even’s face is worth it. Even looks like he is about to pour smoke out of his nostrils like an angry Norwegian dragon in heat.

‘’Not your slave Valtersen. Ring down for your own breakfast. Mate.’’

‘’Isak doesn’t do phone’s…..’’ Mahdi starts, but Magnus interrupts. ‘’Isak can’t ring down himself, his voice is too recognizable and then they will send up some teenaged fan with the order who will go all apeshit all over him and then Isak will be a mess for the rest of the day.’’

‘’I won’t’’ Isak huffs. He’s not a child. Even thought he kind of let’s Magnus and Mahdi treat him like one.

‘’Remember that time in Buenos Aires? You hid in the loo and refused to come out? After that Room Service girl kissed your steak?’’ Magnus turns to Even with an apologetic smile on his face. ‘’She did. It was really weird. Isak totally freaked out.’’

‘’I was grossed out. It was disgusting. I couldn’t eat steak for days after.’’

‘’She was hot though?’’ Mahdi tries.

‘’She was weird.’’ Jonas huffs.

‘’She was a she.’’ Isak whinges. And she was not Hot. She was a bit weird. In a weird way.

‘’They are fans, they are emotionally invested in you and when they meet you they loose grasp of the parameters of normality, and behave totally out of character. It’s a normal reaction. Nothing to freak out about as long as they are not threatening. ‘’ Even hasn’t even looked up from the screen. ‘’Jonas, the medication is Temgesic, I need to look up the medical name. It is a controlled drug, but I’ve never needed to take it. We could just dump it, I don’t really need to cross the border with it.’’

‘’Oatmeal?’’ Isak asks. He is spoiled, he knows that. But then he needs the help. To stay calm. Sane. Because the sheer thought of having to make a simple phone call to order some breakfast porridge is freaking him out. It’s not normal.

‘’For fucks sake Isak.’’ Linn snarls and stomps across the room. This is why Isak loves her. Because of course she picks up the phone and effortlessly orders black strong coffees for 5 people, a tray of croissants, and one bowl of porridge and would it be possible for someone to pop across the road to Tim Hortons and get a 6 pack of Timbits? Yeah? And charge it to the room. Thanks. She slams the receiver down and just cocks her head at Isak.

‘’In the chair’’ she gnaws.

Isak complies. He doesn’t dare to speak up again until his face is covered in one of Linn’s homemade face masks and his hair is getting mercilessly tugged at through her rough hands back combing his messy curls into a quiff worthy of a superstar.

He winces. She tugs harder and calls him a wimp.

He knows she is right. And Even just stares at him through his glasses whilst pretending to look at something on his phone that he can’t even make out.

It’s funny. Isak doesn’t even know if he likes him or not. Yet somehow, he fits. He fit’s right in their little gang. With his arched-up shoulders and that tense snarl on his face and the way he doesn’t talk much. He is right up Isak’s street. No games. No bullshit. Just telling things straight up.   


Isak likes that. He knows where he has people when they are like that, not like the people who suck up to him one minute and then talk behind his back as soon as he is out the door. Not like journalists who lull him into a false sense of security with their assertions of full control and respecting his privacy when he knows full well that their story will be reedited and rehashed into something that bears no resemblance of what he actually said.

Not that he says much these days, he has been drilled in media training since he was 15. He knows how to skirt around the questions and avoid the obvious death-trap answers. He is vague and pleasing, saying all the right things, without saying anything at all. And he kind of likes it that way.

‘’30 minutes’’ Jonas says and stands up, still with croissant crumbs spilling out of his mouth. ‘’Even, can you text Eskild to verify the clothes, he is going nuts on my messenger. I need to check the vehicles downstairs. ‘’

‘’Eskild?’’ Even looks confused.

‘’Stylist’’ Mahdi sighs. ‘’He is in your contacts. Take a picture of Isak from all 4 angles and Eskild will hurl abuse at you which is his way of asking you nicely to correct anything that needs fixing. Linn knows what he needs to wear, and then haul his ass out the door in 28 minutes flat. Jonas will escort you downstairs, Magnus is in the lobby, and I am in the car. ‘’

‘’OK. ‘’ Even shrugs his shoulders. Like it’s nothing. Like he is not still wearing a hoodie and some well-worn jeans, when assistants are usually required to wear formal clothing to make the talent stand out and look effortlessly cool. Isak kind of thinks he will look like an over styled twat with Even hanging around him looking like that. Cool. Like he hasn’t even tried and still looks edible.

Because Isak thinks Even might just be a little bit lickable. With that jawline. The full lips that he can’t quite stop looking at.

It’s not professional. It’s not cool. And there is this uneasesy feeling in Isak stomach that something is not quite right. Like he is off his game.

A little bit like when he did that ill-advised stint off Broadway, pretending that he could simply merge into a fully fledged stage actor, and do theatre, when in reality he was a ball of nerves and kept fluffing his lines. He loved it though. Loved the buzz of the stage, the people in front of him and the thrill of pulling off a live show. He hated it as well. Hated the attention, the blatantly rude reviews and the fact that he sucked. He did.

Just like he sucks at this. At trying to stare at Even without him noticing that Isak’s eyes are glazed over, staring into thin air daydreaming about one day having someone like Even. Someone who would look at him and see Isak. Not Isak the actor. No Just Isak. The messed up insecure half closeted pretty decent actor who just needs to have a break so he can get his head together and figure out what he is supposed to do with the rest of his life.

Because Isak needs help. He knows that. He needs help before he is beyond help.

 


	5. FIVE

FIVE

The difference in Isak is noticeable as soon as they step into the lift. Where he has been fairly relaxed all morning, he is now stiff as a board and the tenseness in the air is thick. His breathing is deep and his eyes closed as he slips a pair of sunglasses over his eyes.

Even can’t take his eyes off him. Nor can Mahdi, obviously concerned as he wraps his arms around him and mumbles something in Isak’s ear. Then he straightens the collar on the ridiculous frilly shirt Isak is wearing and Linn swears under her breath as she corrects a stray strand of hair.

Isak looks amazing. Effortlessly cool and totally on trend. Well he thinks it must be on trend. The shirt unbuttoned almost down to his navel, which is making Even cold just thinking of the temperature outside. The leather jacket slung over Isak’s shoulders won’t keep the chill off him and Even is behaving as a confused mother hen as he starts to try to get Isak’s arm into the sleeve.

‘’You’ll get cold’’ he mutters as Isak stares at him with a blank look on his face.

‘’Eskild said to let it hang off his shoulder.’’ Linn snarls. ‘’Don’t mess with Eskild’s vision. There will be paps down there, and he will go nuts if Isak is not presented correctly.’’

‘’whatever’’ Isak mutters and Even smiles. At least he is not taking all this bullshit seriously he thinks as they step into the lobby.

 

Even has never done this before, but he has seen it. It’s nothing new.

 

‘’Damn you Sana’’ Mahdi mutters and pushes his sunglasses up on his nose. ‘’Even, I will need you to take Isak’s left. Magnus will push through. Linn, keep yourself clear.’’

 

The lobby is pretty quiet but the mayhem outside is deafening. There are barricades set up around the entrance keeping the fans at bay, but there are hundreds of photographers set up and the noise from the doormen trying to control the situation, the security guards holding the doors shut and the fans screaming as the flashes start to go off, the damn paps relentless in the few seconds they will get of Isak Valtersen.

‘’I’ve got you’’ Even says as Magnus starts pushing the doors open, walking backwards trying to push a clear walkway through to the car waiting outside.

Even is OK with crowds. He doesn’t get claustrophobic or scared, but this is frightening. The push from the paps is relentless. The screaming deafening. And the paps are shouting questions in Even’s face, clearly directed at Isak, but not that they care. All they need is a sellable shot, a story to go with it, a facial snarl to accompany a made-up headline.

‘’Isak is it true you are cheating on Emma WL? Is she pregnant? Are you seeing Emma tonight?’’

Isak is doing well ignoring them, keeping his head down, his eyes firmly on the ground.

‘’Isak, are the rumours about Ansel Elgort true? Did you have a dirty trust in the toilets at the Oscars? Isak are you gay? Are men the future for your relationships now? Was the romance with Taylor Swift real or was it another publicity stunt?’’

‘’Turning’’ Isak almost shouts, as he turns around in-between Mahdi and Even, waving swiftly to the crowd with a triumphant grin on his face, ensuring the paps get a good shot, before folding in on himself behind Mahdi who pulls him effortlessly into the seat as Even half tumbles in after, pushed along by Magnus who slams the car door shut behind them.

 

‘’Isak, will you be coming out of the closet? Will the interview with Oprah be a turning point?’’

 

‘’Fucking hell’’ Linn snarls from the back seat. ‘’I’m gonna kill Sana when I see her. I know it’s all publicity, but for fucks sake reign this shit in. ‘’

‘’Ize will be on the index of every entertainment site by this afternoon, it has to be done. It sucks but it’s how we roll. I agree, that was a bit wild though.’’ Magnus sighs. ‘’You OK Even? Your eyes OK?’’

‘’NO” Even wants to shout. His head is pounding and he hasn’t opened his eyes in the last minute, shots of flashes still bouncing around in his fragile eyeballs. He can barely see a thing, his head cradled in his hands as his glasses have hit the floor.

‘’Ize, you OK?’’ Jonas asks from the front seat.

‘’Yeah. Just give me a minute.’’ Isak sounds small. ‘’Good job guys.’’

‘’I don’t know how you do that Isak’’ Even says, fumbling with his glasses. ‘’That’s some scary shit. Those paps were idiots.’’

‘’They will say anything to get a rise out of the talent. They can sell a nice smiley picture, but if they get Ize trying to beat up a Pap they make millions. Just like that. So, they all try it on. One worse than the other. We just need to keep our cool and protect Ize all we can.’’ Jonas is fielding calls on his phone, that is going off and beeping constantly.

‘’As long as Isak is OK, were all OK.’’ Magnus says and shuffles back in his seat. ‘’Being Isak Valtersen is a team effort, it always has been. We are all in this together, and we will do it as long as Isak is up for it. ‘’

‘’Thanks guys’’ Isak says softly.

‘’Now, first stop is the CN tower for a quick photoshoot with the Toronto Daily. Schistad’s team are already there, and they expect a shot with both of you. The interview to accompany the piece will be lifted from the New York times interview, but they want their own photos. We have 30 minutes from that we step out of the car until we need to be back on the road to make the studio segment on time, so no lounging around. Stay sharp. Linn, they have their own make up team, but we have been adamant that you, and only you touch up Isak. So, feel free to bitch if they try to. ‘’ Jonas is turning around from the front seat, and they are all nodding back. Even Isak who is looking a little calmer. More himself Even thinks.

Not that he knows Isak. But somehow, he does. The kid is all right. Cocky and annoying but he’s chill. If that had been Even being abused by those idiots with the cameras he would have gone at them. Not that Even is a violent person, but that, that was just downright rude. Personal. Exploitative.

‘’Sana is saying no overly affectionate shots. Keep some distance to Schistad. That is from his team apparently. He is happy to support the LGBQT genre, but he is keen to protect the Heteronormative roles he gets offered. His team are giving Sana shit for that last photoshoot where you kissed his cheek. Fuck they are all idiots. What does it matter?’’

‘’Does that mean I should hold his hand and smooch him for this shot? Just to fuck with him?’’ Isak smiles. Looking mischievous and happy again which calms Even down a bit.

‘’I think we better stick to Sana’s instructions. We don’t want her to travel out here to reign us in. She will if we start messing about too much.’’ Jonas is laughing, but his voice is stern.

‘’Mummy Sana. She never let’s me have any fun.’’ Isak pouts and Even can’t help laugh. He is actually quite enjoying this. The banter. The craziness. The easy laughter.

‘’You were good out there Bro.’’ Mahdi says patting Even’s arm. You held it up well, with the pressure. Have you done this kind of thing before?’’

‘’No, but I worked on ‘’Burning Assassins’’, and that a Norwegian film ‘’The Very Hung over’’ where we used a lot of stunt men. I hung out with a few of them after hours and some of them used to do security. Lots of wild stories, and always a load of showing off their signature moves after a few drinks. Wild times.’’

‘’And here we are’’ Jonas interrupts.

The sidewalk is quiet. A few stray people walking by, not paying any attention to them as they tumble out of the car and straighten their clothes. And Isak’s hair. Linn seems to constantly touch Isak’s hair. Must drive him mad Even thinks, but he seems chill. And she actually smiles at him when he huffs at her.

Then there is a flurry of activity as they are whisked through the lobby, to a private lift which will take them to the top of the Tower. Canada’s pride and Toronto’s tallest structure. The view is amazing the lady tells them, who keeps shaking everyone’s hand and introducing herself. She is Leanne. And she is the PR representative of the CN Tower, and she is thrilled that they have chosen this location for the shoot and she is a massive fan of Mr Valtersen. Massive. Huge! ‘’

She seems nice though. And Isak is smiling politely and promises he will get a selfie with her after the shoot. Which makes Leanne pop out her mobile and Isak poses like the pro he is, letting her snap a few shots of the two of them grinning into the phone's camera, whilst Leanne giggles like a schoolgirl.

Which is fine. What is not so fine is that Even is now in a glass lift. Hundreds of metres up in the air. And if there is something Even doesn’t do, it is heights. Which is kind of weird since he is a camera man and a lot of the time that means being hoisted up in the air to get good shots. Riding in helicopters to do panoramic sweeps. Climbing rickety scaffolding to get the right angles. Well Even doesn’t do all that. He is very good at delegating jobs to his assistants. Claiming that it is important that they gain experience and can work independently and take his direction and go with it. On their own. Even likes his feet on the ground. At sea-level. Preferably sitting down.

And now he is the one who is feeling slightly queasy, closing his eyes behind his glasses.

‘’Are you OK Even?’’ Isak asks, lifting Even’s glasses off his nose, whilst Even scrunches his eyes shut.

‘’Fucking hate heights’’ Even mutters, and Isak’s laughter fills the lift. ‘’You won’t be going on the glass floor then? Jumping up and down with me?’’

‘’Hell no’’ Even whispers under his breath whilst the bile is rising in his throat and the blood in his body is pounding in his ears. Eyeballs feeling like they are about to explode.

‘’I’ve got you.’’ Magnus whispers. ‘’Hate heights too. You and I will stay by the walls. Looking out for weirdos and shit. OK?’’

Even can barely nod. But at least the elevator stops and they are back on some sort of solid floor. Tumbling out together, whilst Mahdi and Jonas effortlessly flank Isak who leads the way following Leanne towards the obvious photo-shoot setup.

 

Schistad is there, in his sharp cut suit, with a blank expression on his face. Not that Even is stars-truck in any way, but he kind of expects him to acknowledge them. To say hello to Isak at least. Which he doesn’t. He just stands there staring into the nothingness like they are all invisible.

‘’Hi, are you Naesheim?’’ The tall bloke in front of him asks. Floppy fringe. Sharp suit. Clearly Norwegian with an American twang pointing at too many years on the wrong side of the Atlantic.

‘’Huh?’’ Even mutters. There are glass windows everywhere. He is definitely too high up for his own comfort and safety. And his feet seem to be walking backwards all on their own. He still manages to reach his hand out and shake the blokes firm grip.

‘’William Magnusson, Schistad Productions. I’m Mr Schistad’s manager, it’s a pleasure to meet a fellow Norwegian. ‘’You are in charge of Valtersen now?’’

‘’Huh? I don’t know? What were you asking?’’ Even knows how to be professional. He does. But right now, he is feeling a tiny bit faint and then Isak is standing under the bright lights next to Schistad, and to be honest the difference is startling. Isak is smiling like he couldn’t be happier, charming the pants off the photographer who is waving his hands around trying to arrange them into the position he needs to get his shot. And Isak nods. Smiles. Sparkles to the point that Even has to take his dark glasses off for a second, just to take it in.

Schistad is standing firmly on the floor. Arms crossed over his chest. His face frozen in his signature scowl. Whilst Isak is hunched by his feet, shirt open low, with his eyes fixed on the camera. He is smouldering. Even knows it’s a cliché thing to say, but right now he could quite happily fall in lust with the damn kid. He is sexy as fuck and he knows it.

‘’The kid is a nightmare, I don’t know how you can work with him. Totally flaky if you ask me but he delivers, I give him that. That shot is hot. Christoffer can’t quite pull off that same vibe that Valtersen has. The ‘fuck me’- looks, and that attitude the kid has. ‘’

Even just stares at the guy. I mean. This industry is shallow and fucked up, but come on. Isak is right there. Within earshot. Eyefucking the camera and making Schistad look positively constipated whilst Isak is setting the world on fire.

‘’OK, gents, I want you both sitting on the glass floor over here, make up for Valtersen?’’ The photographer demands, and Linn is already there touching up the bead of sweat falling down Isak’s forehead, and fanning him with the piece of cardboard in her hand.

Schistad whispers something to Isak, and Isak bursts into laughter, his eyes twinkling in the sharp brightness from the lighting rig.

‘’Hold that, do that again gents’’ the photographer shouts excitedly. Even can see it. Isak shining through, his eyes all crinkled up in laughter whilst Schistad stares at him, with what Even can only describe as bloody hunger. And Even get’s it. It’s like a fucking lightbulb moment in his head. No wonder. Fucking hell. That Schistad is so fucking horny for Isak that it’s not even funny, no wonder he is freaked out by the fact that everyone can see it. No wonder he wants to distance himself from the inevitable boner he is so blatantly sporting for Mr Valtersen himself. And for a minute Even laughs to himself.

‘’You can see it then’’ Magnus whispers in his ear. ‘’Isak wouldn’t. Never. Guy is creepy AF. Married. He is fucking his assistant, that Sarah girl over there. And I think you and I both know that is not where his dick feels at home. ‘’

Even can’t help it. He tries to swallow the giggles brewing in his throat, but instead he splutters as he tries to reign himself in. He is a professional. Representing Paramount Pictures for this venture. Showing a united front for the promotion of this very important film. Fucking hell. It’s a mess. He kind of wants to see it now, to see Schistad in action. But at the same time he doesn’t want to see Isak. He likes the Isak he is here. Funny and relaxed and obviously fucking with Schistads head as the bloke is now looking seriously uncomfortable in his tight suit, whilst Isak is standing just a little too close, and then he does it. Making Magnus groan and sigh just a little too loudly in Even’s ear.

Because Isak reaches over and trails the tip of his tongue up Christoffer Schistad's chin. Just slowly to ensure the photographer get’s his shot. He is clever. Fucking hell Isak is clever.

3 hours later the photo hits the world wide web. And Even’s phone starts ringing too.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Even has always laughed at the twats in suits walking around at events with their phones glued to their head. Shook his head in disbelief at the rudeness and perceived self-importance. Well right now the idiot with the phone is Even, pacing up and down in the hallway outside the main hall shouting at people he has never met and barely remembers the name of.

 

He has already developed a deep hatred for anyone on Schistad’s team. Seriously. He has been yelled at by people on Paramount’s Public relations team. But he has also spoken personally to Randolph Stockheart, who is like the photographer of the moment who pretty much begged to be squeezed in for a shoot with Isak before they leave tomorrow. And Sana Bakkoush has definitely established herself as Even’s new best friend. She hadn’t even said her name when he took her first call, just blurted out that she was the person that he would learn to hate very quickly but that she would personally come out and crush his nuts if he ever declined her calls.

 

She has made him laugh every time her name has flashed on his screen. And she clearly adores Isak which has made Even feel much better about the whole situation.

 

The world loves Isak and Christoffer, that is clear, and even Schistad’s team seems to have calmed their tits as the feedback to the mornings shoot seems to be generating good publicity and the film is pretty much sold out for opening night across the States. It’s all good. Even is pretty sure the world is rooting for CHISAK to be real. Hysterical. Total madness. But apparently good if you understand the weird and wonderful world of the entertainment industry. Even doesn't understand shit. But people aren't screaming as loudly at him on the phone anymore so things must be improving. He thinks.

 

Isak seems to be coping well, standing on the red carpet a few meters away smiling at the interviewer who is no doubt asking the same questions he has been graciously answering for the last couple of months. Not that you can tell, because Isak is a true professional out there, looking open and friendly, with his arm draped around the tall woman next to him. Emma something. Supermodel of the moment and aspiring actress and socialite. Brand ambassador for so many brands that Even couldn’t keep up when he tried to read the resume that came with the brief for this evenings opener of the Toronto film festival. At least they are at a good venue, the Staples centre hosting separate screenings in carefully arranged conference halls that have been effortlessly transformed into cinemas, that no one will actually attend since all the invited celebs are busy getting pissed on champagne in the hospitality suite, and snorting up their hard-earned cash in the toilets. Even had almost laughed when the guy in the tux attending the men’s room offered him a selection of graded Cocaine with his heated hand towel.

 

Years ago, Even would have laughed. Yet now he stood there hoping that Isak doesn’t need to go in there on his own. That Isak wouldn’t fall for doing something careless and stupid like that. And he is grateful for Magnus standing firm behind Isak with a blank expression on his face, whilst his eyes are following every move. Jonas is two steps behind, and Mahdi is guarding the car. They are not staying apparently. Because Isak never does.

 

To be honest Even is exhausted, and he would have loved to catch a few films, drunk a few glasses of the red wine that is being freely distributed around him. Instead he closes his eyes and pops another migraine tablet, hoping that the tense band over his forehead will release a little so he can concentrate.

‘’Jonas, photoshoot at 9 tomorrow at the hotel, we need to meet Mr Stockheart’s team in the lobby and bring him up to the suite, ready for the shoot. I have asked Eskild to brief us on clothes, but Mr Stockheart suggested a few items he can bring. I assume Isak doesn’t do nudes?’’

‘’Isak has done nudes before, he doesn’t give a fuck, but Sana will have another heart-attack if he shows his balls again. Better let her write the Agreement and just go with whatever she says.’’ Jonas has his arms crossed over his chest, snickering as Emma places a kiss on Isak’s cheek.

‘’She’s good. She makes it look real.’’ Even hates her already. Hates the games and the flakiness and stupid ideas the press will plant all over the news tomorrow. Her glossed up smile beaming at Isak who throws his head back like she has just told the funniest joke in the world.

‘’Watch her now’’ Jonas whispers and nods. And just like that. The camera is pointed elsewhere and Emma stomps off grabbing a glass of champagne off the side and downing it in one sweep as she disappears, followed by some woman with a clipboard screaming into her mobile phone.

 

‘’Save me’’ Isak whispers in Even’s ear. ‘’Please tell me we can get out of here now?’’

‘’You did good kiddo’’ Magnus says, patting Isak’s shoulder. ‘’Are we off? Even? We good?’’

‘’Was that ‘’Entertainment tonight? The last reporter?’’

‘’No, Empire Canada, I did speak to Entertainment just before. Was there anyone else we are contracted with?’’ Isak is squinting into Even’s phone, where the latest directives from Sana are coming in thick and fast.

‘’She says we are good. I think’’ Even sighs. He can’t make out shit. And will probably get the sack before they even hit the US border tomorrow.

‘’You can’t see at thing on this phone Even, can you? Have you not got an iPad we can use? To make it easier for you to see?’’ Isak is scrolling up the messages, nodding as he reads.

‘’I need to sit down in a dark room for an hour and get my head back together. This place is just hopping crazy.’’ Even takes his glasses off. Rubs his hands over his eyes as Isak places the phone back in his pocket.

‘’Sana says we’re good’’ Jonas replies with a sigh. ‘’Ok, Mahdi has the car outside loading dock 3. We are going down Staircase 3 by entrance A, then turning left at the goods entrance, keeping left through a long corridor and someone called Steve will be waiting at the shutter gate to let us through. That’s the plan. Now, where is that hostess that is supposed to guard us at all times? What was her name?’’ Jonas is looking around, expecting one of them to know. To be honest Even doesn’t even know what the woman looked like, the one who read them the riot act and promised to be at their beck and call for whatever Mr Valtersen needed.

‘’Mr Valtersen is leaving the building’’ Isak huffs. ‘’I need a beer and some dinner. Something not from room service. ‘’

‘’I could murder a cup of tea and a digestive biscuit. What is wrong with the north Americans? Their biscuits are shite!’’ Even doesn’t mean to be harsh, but all he can think of is something hot and wet in a cup. With a proper biscuit. In the dark wearing something that is not strangling his neck and itching like sandpaper around his throat.

‘’The suit suits you’’ Isak says as they walk along the concrete corridor.

‘’Huh?’’ Even huffs.

‘’You look good in a suit. You clean up nicely.’’ Isak looks genuine and Even can’t help laugh.

‘’You clean up pretty nicely too. Although I did like your first appearance the best. Very stripped back.’’

Isak just smiles, and for a second it looks like he is blushing. Fuck he his. And Even beams. He has made Isak Valtersen blush. He loves it. Really.

‘’Sorry about that. I can be a dick at times.’’ Isak nudges Even’s shoulder. ‘’You have done good today. It’s nice to have a normal bloke around for a change. Someone who is not just here for the glamour and starlight of hanging around an actor who has done quite well for himself. People quickly realize that my life is a shitshow and that nothing is real. Then they leave, because when it comes down to the fact of who I am and what I am like, the job is just not that much fun anymore.’’

‘’Don’t put yourself down kid.’’ Even nudges Isak’s shoulder. ‘’I’ve had a good day. Best day I have had for a while.’’

‘’I’m not a kid.’’ Isak mutters. ‘’You are 29.’’

‘’Your file says you are 24.’’ Even retaliates.

‘’I am 28. Too old for most roles if people find out. Sana keeps adjusting my official papers depending on the roles I am after. ‘’

Even just shakes his head. ‘’That’s a little fucked up.’’

‘’Everything is.’’ Isak replies and rips the bowtie from his collar. ‘’Nothing in my life is real. And that is not always easy to deal with.’’

 

 

Isak feels a little sick. It was a good evening, and the food Linn ordered had been perfect. He should really promote her to his personal food fixer, in addition to being his makeup artist, hair magician and general of the ‘’Let’s make Isak feel like a human person again’’ person. Whatever that means. Well Isak isn’t like everyone else and sometimes he floats off on some kind of fucked up cloud of self-righteousness where he thinks he is someone special. Where he thinks he has the rights to scream and shout and demand shit. Well Linn doesn’t take it.

Jonas takes everything Isak throws at him. Takes it lying down and lets him scream and shout until he exhausts himself and Jonas will just roll his eyes and give him a hug. Mahdi tells him he is a twat. Just shrugs his shoulders and walks away. Magnus laughs in his face and tells him to grow a pair. But Linn. She shouts back. Tells him to go fuck himself. Calls him out on his idiotic ideas and tells it like it is. He is fucking lucky and he should be ashamed of his twattish antics and juvenile ideas.

Not that he understands what he does most of the time. Sometimes it is anger. Frustration. Sadness that creeps up on him when he least expects it. Mostly it is loneliness. Which is totally uncalled for since Isak has the best people in the world right here. All of them ready to run to him at the press of a text on his phone. If he can remember where he last put it, and how to use it. Especially since Jonas keeps changing his passwords and codes.

 

At least he has his bag back, because of course Mahdi had picked it up and stashed it safely out of the way of prying hotel staff, tucked it away with his own bag, nestled together with their anonymous labels with fake names and a company name that leads back to an empty office in LA.

He has an office. It’s all for tax purposes and bank details and having an anonymous address where he can have shit sent to without people figuring out where he lives.

He is pretty terrified of living anywhere to be honest.

He had a house in Oslo, which got broken into so many times that he sold it at a massive loss. It was just stupid. Kids who knew he owned the posh looking box with designer furniture that he didn’t even chose himself. He had never stayed the night, just walked through it with the estate agent and never returned.

Instead he bought a penthouse in New York. Another crap place with a view that made him feel self-conscious with all the windows and buildings overlooking his glass prison. He had stayed there for a few months, living with the curtains closed in a constant state of darkness. He had sold it the next year, leaving everything behind for the cleaners to dispose of. Now he only owned a villa in LA, that Magnus’ wife and kids lived in, because Isak can’t bear to be alone. And he kind of loves the idea that Vilde and the kids have the garden, and the views. The pretty balcony and the pool house. He sometimes browses the Toys’R’us website and orders a few ride-on toys. Orders another bespoke treehouse to be erected next to the climbing frames and playhouses he has already scattered around the property.

It’s a nice house, but it is not Isak’s home. Not that he has any ill feelings about the subtle changes Vilde has done to the place, or the constant laughter and screaming of the children when he occasionally turns up and spends the night in the guest apartment next to the house. A small crowded room which houses every thing Isak owns, all neatly stacked in boxes and crates, whilst the unmade bed by the window is the only place Isak feels is home.

 

His parents sold his childhood home years ago when Isak used his first pay check to buy them a house on a cliff edge overlooking the Oslo fjord. Jonas parents retired to Spain and the Oslo flat where he and Jonas spent most of their teenaged years is no longer there, raised to the ground to make space for a budget hotel chain. There is nowhere that feels like home anymore and Isak wishes things were different. That he had made himself a home somewhere where he could hide. Well the cabin outside Oslo is the only place he ever goes apart from LA, and the rest of the time him and the boys camp out in hotels or occasionally the Airbnb villa’s Jonas tracks down when they have to stay in one place longer than usual.

So Isak paces the room. Let’s his footfall crunch against the thick carpet as he tries to exhaust himself.

Food makes him drowsy but the buzz from the beers has worn off, and the uneasiness from interacting with Emma earlier has left a sour taste in his mouth. He spoke to Sana earlier and made it quite clear that a breakup would have to be announced sooner rather than later. Something about too much time apart or some bullshit like that. He just can’t do it anymore, because it isn’t making his life any easier, having to pretend.

He knows he is making a racket, kicking the edge of the sofa every time he turns the corner in the dimly lit up living area. He kicks the door to the bedroom on every pass. Slams his fist into the front door in frustration. Almost screams out loud as someone passes the door and the laugher of people passing in the corridor makes him angry. It doesn’t make any sense but then not much makes sense in Isak’s life anymore.

 

‘’STOP’’

Even looks pissed off. Really pissed off.

‘’What’’ Isak snarls.

‘’You are driving me fucking crazy. I need to sleep. My head is killing me and I can hear you. Constantly. Muttering and talking to yourself and banging shit. Can you just calm the fuck down and go to bed? Do you never sleep?’’ There is no kindness in Even’s voice. No softness or laughter.

‘’Can’t calm down. ‘’ Isak mutters.

‘’TRY’’ Even groans. And slams the door to his bedroom shut.

 

Whilst Isak just bangs his foot hard into the side of the sofa. Kicks it again. Pushes the plush furniture further away from the irrational rage brewing inside him.

 

‘’OK. Enough’’ That’s Even. He’s back, and by the way he is holding his body as he marches across the room towards Isak, he is fuming now. Angry to the point that his hair is standing up on his head and he hasn’t even bothered to put his glasses on even though Isak has every single lamp lit in the room.

‘’Come.’’ He demands and grabs Isak’s arm.

It’s not like Isak can’t defend himself. He could probably take Even out with a few well-placed manoeuvres, a few stunt tricks and self defence moves he has picked up over the years, but Even is a force to be reckoned with and the anger is pretty much radiating of his skin as Isak gets pushed onto the king-sized bed in the room Even has been sleeping in.

‘’What the fuck are you doing?’’ Isak shouts out. Because Even is pushing him down on his back, and clumsily trying to cover Isak’s body with the duvet. His hands pressing the ridiculously fluffy covers down over his body.

‘’You are going to sleep. Because if you don’t sleep, I don’t sleep and If I don’t sleep then we are bloody toast come tomorrow because it will all go to shit. I can’t risk losing this job right now because I need to work. And I kind of like to pay my bills and eat and shit so fucking just lie down and go to sleep before I fucking put you to sleep myself.’’

‘’Is that a threat?’’ Isak is on the verge of giggling. Because Even is kind of cute when he is pissed off like this. Stomping around and throwing pillows back on the bed and he is wearing a t-shirt with the words ‘’Happiness and Light’’ printed across the front which somehow just makes Isak want to burst out laughing.

‘’Totally’’ Even snarls as he switches the light off and the room falls pitch black.

‘’I can’t sleep in the dark….’’ Isak starts. He’s not sure if it is a good idea to start throwing demands at Even. Not right now. Not with the massive sigh Even let’s out.

‘’I can’t sleep with the lights on. Tough. My room, My rules.’’

Isak tosses and turns. He will have to sneak out of here. Wait until Even falls asleep and tiptoe out towards the strip of light shining under the door.

He concentrates on the light. There is light there. He can do this. It’s just a little darkness. And then Even is right there, Even would not let anything happen to him. Well.

‘’I know what you are thinking. ‘’

‘’Bullshit’’ Isak doesn’t mean to be rude. Well maybe.

‘’You are going to sneak out of here as soon as you think I’m asleep.’’ Even is rustling around in the covers. Pushing the pillows towards Isak and his breath is suddenly hitting Isak’s cheek. An arm being placed around Isak’s waist. Even’s head falling heavily against Isak’s shoulder. ‘’I’m going to sleep here. Cuddling you. So, if you think I won’t wake up if you try to leave you are mistaken. I’m a very light sleeper and whilst my eyes are shit my hearing is excellent. ‘’ He let’s a little giggle escape, Just a small one but it makes Isak smile. Involuntarily makes his arm roll over his shoulder so he can curl it around Even’s neck. Letting his fingers dance over the fabric on his back.

‘’You are a cuddler then?’’ He starts. Isak doesn’t want to sleep. But he could talk a little if Even keeps doing what he is doing right now. Stroking little lines over Isak’s chest. Feather light touches through the shirt covering his body.

‘’Shut up and go to sleep. Everyone needs a good cuddle now and then. There is nothing more to it. I am not being creepy or coming on to you or some shit like that, but mate, I have never met anyone in my life who is more desperate for cuddles than you. So just take it. Go to sleep and let me cuddle you. ‘’

‘’I don’t need a cuddle’’ Isak is lying. He is lying so much that he can feel himself blush. He loves this. Loves that he has Even’s breath warm and damp against his neck. The warmth pressed against his side. The steady breathing of another human being right here.

‘’Shut up’’ Even whispers.

So Isak let’s himself lie there. Braves turning his head enough that he can smell Even’s hair against his nose. Hair stroking his lips. Fingers still aimlessly stroking the strip of bare skin on his stomach.

Isak never sleeps. He dozes and occasionally drifts off in an exhausted coma for an hour or two, but he never sleeps through the night. His body never lets himself relax enough to even try.

Somehow, right now, he hasn’t got a choice.

‘’Go the fuck to sleep’’ Even mutters.

And surprisingly Isak does. He sleeps and wakes to a room bathed in sunlight. The chatter of voices outside the door, and his t-shirt damp with sweat from where Even kept him safe through the night.

He wakes up alone, with a head full of fears wondering what the hell he just let happen.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A ''Radcliffe'' is a stunt Actor Daniel Radcliffe started whilst playing in a West End London play. He would exit the theatre every night into the crowd of paps wearing the exact same outfit, making the shots completly unsellable. It is something alot of stars tend to do these days, and people like Harry Styles (Damn kid) excel at it.

 

It’s been the weirdest of days. Almost like Isak has just existed in some padded bubble where he can barely hear what is being said. Like everyone has been moving in slow motion around him, like he is in some weird music video where he just can’t make out the music.

He did some fantastic shots this morning with that photographer dude, a bearded older man who made Isak feel completely at ease about sitting on the floor wearing nothing but black boxers after Linn shoved a fistful of wax in his hair and smeared lip salve all over his skin. He looked amazing. Vulnerable and frustrated and totally ‘’just rolled out of bed’’ kind of sexy. Which was kind of true. He had basically just rolled out of bed and ended up on the floor where he stayed whilst the photographer shot frame after frame of him looking sultry and confused.

The pictures were perfection. He loves these kinds of shots. Shots where he looks just like himself. Weird and out of focus and confused and angry and sad and shooting out feelings through his eyes on demand. He can do this shit in his sleep but some days are just better than others and all the feelings wrestling around in his chest are kind of doing his head in.

He had felt like a 3-year-old asking about Even. Because Even is nowhere to be found.

Jonas said he had some appointment with the Paramount appointed specialist in New York and would catch up with them tomorrow at the hotel. And Isak had wanted to cry. Because the sheer thought of walking around like the living dead and not being able to clear the air with Even is killing him.

It’s not just that he wants to know what is going on. He wants to know what is really going on. Is Even just like him? Into guys? Is Even into him? Is this something? Is there anything going on that he hadn’t noticed? The guy is crazy. Honestly. Aggressive and impulsive and a frankly a little bit frightening. Yet he is kind and happy and funny and the closest thing to someone that Isak could see becoming a friend. He’s just cool. Chilled. Sad and frustrated and damn. He smells good. Feels good. Makes Isak feel all fucking confused and thrilled and riled up whilst making him just want to put his fist through the bloody hotel room window.

‘’When is Even coming back?’’ he asks for what must be at least the third time since they left the hotel. Driving out towards the airport on the grey motorway, past the lakeside condos and the giant warehouses and the shops screaming for normal people to come and do what normal people do. Things that Isak hasn’t done for years. Like walk into a shop to buy his own milk. Picking up a sandwich and eating it whilst walking down the street. Not getting stopped by people asking for a photo whilst he has ketchup running down his cheek and food on his jacket.

He closes his eyes and lets himself daydream again. Thinking back to lying in bed with Even’s head on his shoulder. Drooling a little puddle of spit onto his chest. Feeling his breath on his skin and the soft tickles of his hair in his face.

‘’Ize, there will be paps at the airport, but Sana says none are contracted so feel free to not perform. Just don’t lash out, OK mate? I don’t know what is up with you but you are tense as fuck.’’

Jonas plonks himself down in the seat next to Isak, giving him that look. The look he does when he needs to know. When he is worried that Isak is going to snap and lose his shit.

‘’I’m chill. Everything is OK.’’ He knows. He is OK in many ways but yet he is not.

‘’The photos from this morning just came in. Did you see them?’’ Jonas is scrolling on his phone angling the screen to Isak, and there he is. Covered in filters and photoshop and a little bit of doctoring to remove the background but the shots are clear. There he is. Tired and confused and fuckable. Yeah, he can quite happily agree to that phrase.

‘’Vogue Italia have already put a bid in for the exclusive rights. Stockheart is playing hardball and upping the stakes so they should earn you a good whack.’’ Jonas sighs and enlarges a shot where Isak’s eyes are closed but his mouth is slack and open. It’s almost obscene in it’s subtle hints. The blatantly obvious story being told through just the way he is angling his head.

‘’Stockheart will earn a good whack.’’ Isak sighs. ‘’They are good. Have you got my phone?’’

‘’Your phone’’ Jonas sighs and plonks the sleek iPhone on Isak’s lap. ‘’Code 222221’’

‘’What the hell was wrong with 212121 from last week?’’ Isak almost sighs as he unlocks the screen and is greeted with a screensaver of Emma from some fashion catwalk.  ‘’WTF Jonas??’’

Jonas just laughs. ‘’Mahdi put it on there. Thought it would make you laugh.’’

‘’It’s kind of my private phone dude? Have you got no respect?’’ Isak just shakes his head and let’s his fingers click around the settings, trying to figure out how to delete the photo. Or change it. To whatever. He doesn’t really give a fuck.

‘’Give it here’’ Jonas sighs and presses his fingers to the screen in fast coordinated movements. ‘’There. Better?’’

Isak just groans and knocks his head into the door next to him. Cold glass against his head. And some Paramount stock photo of Even Bech Naesheim staring out at him from his phone.

‘’You were in his bed mate. What the fuck are you thinking?’’ Jonas voice is low. Warning. Concerned and a little bit scary.

‘’He cuddles. The dude is chill. ‘’ It sounds fucked up as soon as the words leave Isak’s lips. Cuddles? Honestly Isak?

‘’Just don’t get hurt. He won’t be around for long and you will be messed up. I’m not saying he is a bad dude, but listen. He has more issues than you. He doesn’t belong with us, it’s not his job. Just a temporary gig until he get’s his eyes sorted and goes back to doing what he does damn well. He won’t stick around long enough to care. You will just be another dude he fucked and maybe one he will tell stories about to his grandkids when he is older.’’

‘’We did not fuck. And there is nothing going on.’’ Isak mutters.

‘’Just cuddles.’’ Jonas laughs, but there is no happiness in his voice.

‘’I cuddle you. And we don’t fuck.’’

‘’That’s different. We are us, and sometimes we need that. He’s your assistant. The dude that reports to Paramount. Not someone you can manipulate around and mess with. ‘’

‘’I wont mess with him. I just want to talk to him. Is his number in my phone?’’ Honestly. Jonas is not Isak’s Dad, but sometimes. Honestly.

‘’Of course, it is.‘’ Jonas sounds resigned. Tired. Just like Isak. Exhausted.

 

Even doesn’t reply. And Isak is not one to beg. Even if he kind of decides to keep his phone tucked in his inside jacket pocket. He is back in his ‘’Radcliffe’’ gear. The stuff he wears that looks impossibly plain and normal, totally ruining any ideas of him looking remotely interesting in papshots, making the photos pretty much unsellable since there must be thousands of photos of Isak Valtersen wearing exactly this outfit. A brown well-worn leather jacket. A yellow beanie pulled deep down over his curls. Black skinnies and the trainers he tends to live in. Dirty and worn and the laces are threadbare, but they make him feel real.

There are paps on the curb of Departures at Toronto's International airport when they exit the car. There are people screaming and trying to grab him as he walks in a daze through the check in area, firmly guided by Mahdi’s arm around his waist. Magnus hand on his shoulder. Jonas in front of him handling every word needed to be spoken. Holding out passports and dealing with bags whilst Isak keeps his head low and his breathing steady.

They get pushed through security, and his jacket comes off with his shoes and he feels naked and bare in his hoodie and worn socks. Shudders as the security guy pats him down and hands him his watch back. Hides back into the leather jacket and takes a sigh of relief as the beanie comes down on his head.

He misses Even. Which isn’t fair. It’s not fair that some random stranger makes you feel like this. He wishes that Even was here. If Even was here he would have leaned in and fallen asleep against his shoulder. Even would have patted his head. Told him something that would have made Isak smile.

Instead he glances over at Mahdi reading something on his Kindle. Magnus taking a well-deserved snooze. Jonas who is still working on his laptop as the plane taxis out towards the runway. Linn who is already curled up fast asleep across the aisle, her hair hanging down over her eyes and her arms curled tightly around her thick jacket.

The flight is too short for first class or champagne or all that shit. It’s all one class, and Isak was last to board, being escorted on by some overenthusiastic airline employee who had smiled far too little and talked far too much. Sitting on the first row or a plane is all good and well when you get to get off first before the people behind you brave up enough to come and harass you. Getting on in front of 200 people whispering ‘’OMG is that who I think it is?’’ Is kind of freaky. Then he has to sit there and worry for the next hour if someone is going to freak out and scream at him.

If Even had been here he could have distracted himself. Instead he sits with his phone in his hand and tries to sneakily look at the picture. Lifted from some film shoot ID no doubt. A plain black and white photo where Even’s hair is a little bit longer and falling in his eyes. His mouth in a firm non-smile. His eyes. The eyes are soothing. Just looking at Isak like Even usually does. A little glimmer of laughter mixed with that WTF?-attitude he carries so well.

‘’Sir, can you ensure your phone is in flight mode please? We are about to take off?’’ The stewardess looks embarrassed as fuck but Isak tries to smile back. He doesn’t even flinch when Mahdi grabs his phone and makes that little airplane symbol appear on the top. Presses some buttons and hands the phone back ready to enter level 563 of Candy Crush.

‘’Just play and behave Ize.’’ He whispers and returns to his book.

Isak closes his eyes.

Another hour of his life he will never get back. The planes engines roar into the sultry air and the plane hurtles down the runway. Another hour of resigning himself to the fact that he has no control. He has no free will. He just does what he is told and everyone is happy.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	8. EIGHT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the love and kudos and amazing comments. I am as always rubbish at replying to the comments but at least you get a new chapter. 
> 
> Sorry about the lack of my crap manips, I need to sit down and make some new ones. 
> 
> I need to adult over the weekend but should be back with more updates next week. xxx

 

 

Eight

 

The ride into Manhattan is uneventful, the freeway churning slowly in-between the neighbourhoods of Queens, past people and places and shops and the incarceration centre where Isak spent 2 days talking to some specially selected inmates whilst Jonas was having a full-blown panic attack over his safety. He had just wanted to meet some real people to prepare for this role, some broken humans that were dealing with the fallout of their life choices. Someone who’s story he could relate to and try to channel. He hadn’t really bonded with either of the guys the prison had rolled out for him to spend time with. They hadn’t been the most talkative of chaps and the second one had more interest in finding out the ins and outs of the movie industry rather than telling Isak about his life and times behind bars.

At least he had tried. Instead he had read as many books on prison life as he could find and made his character something different. A tough guy with so many inner demons slowly eating him up on the inside. Nothing like Isak, but not that different. Not really. Apart from where Alfie is loud and animated Isak is quiet and subdued. Almost shy and introvert when he has to be himself. When there is no role to play or script to follow.

He almost jumps out of his skin when his phone vibrates in his pocket.

SANA: OK Isak. Deal with Emma reached, announcement goes live Thursday. We had to buy her out of the last months of her contract but it was just small fry so don’t worry about it. Your sanity is more important and (don’t freaking quote me on this) but Good riddance. Not a team I am interested in dealing with again, apart from that I have a fresh client she would be the perfect match for. I am intrigued.

ISAK: Thank you. Please let me have a break and be ‘’single’’ for a while. I can’t bear the BS right now. Love you BB.

SANA: I am your best bud, not your bitch boss.

ISAK: You love me really.

SANA: Good job with Stockheart. He has asked for another session when you are back in LA with some time on your hands, a proper studio shoot. He had some good ideas, and I think we should run with it. You still have the offer of a Calvin Klein campaign, we could offer that up, or just do an independent shoot. I will see what comes up more profitable after Stockheart has closed the deal on yesterday’s shots.

ISAK: Whatever.

SANA: You are like a teenaged kid. I have enough of those at home.

ISAK: Yes Mum.

SANA: Love you kiddo. Now behave. How is Naesheim working out?

ISAK: Cool dude. Like him.

SANA: Good. If he wants to stay on with you let me know and I will draw up a permanent contract. Be good.

ISAK: I am always good. I have no fucking choice, do I?

 

The lobby of the W hotel on Lexington is quiet for a weeknight, just a few people milling around, the traffic deafening from the street outside. It’s New York after all, and nobody has time to notice anyone else, which suits Isak absolutely fine as he stands quite casually by the reception desk, letting Jonas handle the registration forms and the keys. And the well-worn credit card for ParalellUniverse Inc., the company name he hides behind for all his public financial needs.

He has a credit card in his own name somewhere, but he can’t even remember the last time he saw it. Can’t even remember when he last had to pay for something himself.

‘’Shall we head down to Smith and Wollensky for a steak? I can ring ahead, you know they have that private back room, so we can be on our own. Just chill out for a change.’’ Jonas is looking at them all, nodding in agreement.

‘’Love that place.’’ Linn swoons and rolls her eyes.

‘’You are Vegan Linn. You are a pain in the arse.’’ Magnus sighs as Linn punches him in the side, giving him that grin she so rarely pulls out.

‘’I am a Vegan except for when it comes to steak. I like steak. Sue me.’’

‘’You have no shame Linn.’’ Mahdi laughs and Isak just shakes his head.

‘’Have you heard from Even?’’ He asks Jonas. Again. He sounds like a bloody broken record but he wants this fucking day to end. With Even back where he belongs. With Isak.

‘’Nope, but Isak, he’s a grown-up man. He said he will be back here in the morning so let’s give the dude a break and trust him. You have a suite again.’’

For once Isak doesn’t roll his eyes. Doesn’t groan in disappointment. He just nods and Jonas sighs.

‘’Even will get the other room in the suite. Chill Ize.’’

‘’Thank you’’ Isak mutters.

‘’I’m totally crushed by your blatant rejection.’’ Magnus nudges his shoulder. ‘’The spare suite room was always mine. I have been pushed out by the new dude. WTF Isak. I’m hurt.’’

‘’You fart in your sleep Mags. Get a grip. I wouldn’t have you in my suite if you were the last person on earth.’’ Isak deadpans back and has to step to the side to avoid the punch from Magnus. Because Magnus is built like a brick house and Isak would kind of fall over. In public. If Magnus let him.

Which he doesn’t of course. He just playfights him and drags Isak’s bag along to the lifts where the doorman is already wrangling their packing cubes and Linn’s ridiculous set of industrial high strength make up transporters.

They walk to the steakhouse, which kind of lifts Isak’s mood. The crisp air and the normality of a simple thing like walking a few blocks with your hands in your pockets, letting your nose pick up the scents from the pizza vendors, the smoke from the halal grill on the corner and the dirty slush draining into the gutter. He has always liked New York, and once thought this could be home. It never will be. It’s just not him. Not quite right.

He spends the late hours sitting on the floor in his ridiculous suite, reading another script wondering if it is something he could pull off. If it’s something he would risk his sanity for.

He never used to think like that, wondering if this would be the job that would break him. If this would be the last thing he would put his name on before pulling the plug on the joke that is ‘’Isak Valtersen’’. But right now he doesn’t even know if he ever wants to act again. Pretending to be someone else has worn so thin that just trying to be himself seems a greater challenge. It shouldn’t be like that, he knows that. He should get his priorities right and try to build a life for himself, instead of jumping from character to character trying to escape from real life.

It’s almost midnight by the time he hears the tell tale rattling of the door. The fumbled attempts to get the plastic key card to align in the ridiculous slot in the door. The click of the lock finally echoing through the silence as Even stumbles in through the door, dropping his sunglasses on the floor as he pushes the door back shut with his bum.

‘’Where is your bag?’’ Isak asks. Because it isn’t in here. Isak has already checked

‘’Going to bed. Where do I go?’’ Even slurs, trying to pick his glasses up from the floor. Failing miserably as he stumbles around.

He is drunk. He is a fucking liability.

‘’Babe. You are not going to bed like this. You need a glass of water and your meds. ‘’

‘’Fuck the meds. It’s prmmnent. This eye thing. Not getting better.’’

If Even wasn’t so pathetically drunk Isak would have laughed at the sadness in his voice. The upset and anger.

‘’You need your meds Even. Then you will drink water and go to sleep. We have a fucking long day tomorrow and I need you to be on the ball, not a hungover mess.’’

‘’Get someone else. Someone with eyyys. EYYSSS’’ Even tries to point at his eyes. Instead poking his nose with his finger.

He’s wrecked. Out of control. Slurring and blinking helplessly into the light without his glasses on.

‘’You are pretty. You are so fucking pretty. It’s not fair’’ Even mutters.

‘’You are so fucking drunk’’ Isak replies, ripping Even’s coat from his shoulders whilst trying to keep him standing upright against his chest. Because Even is doing some kind of attempt at hugging. Cuddling into Isak and letting his hands awkwardly slap against Isak’s back.

‘’I was going to get laaiid.’’Even slurs into his ear. ‘’Was gonna get my cock sucked but he wasn’t as pretty as yooo’’

‘’We need to get you in bed before you say shit you will regret in the morning’’ Isak tries to sound stern but he is getting nowhere with Even who despite being a skinny beanpole seems to weigh tons in Isak’s arms and his legs don’t seem to work properly.

‘’Wanna sleep in your bed Izzack’’ Even mutters. ‘’You don’t like me but I like you.’’

For a second Isak contemplates banging on the wall to get Mahdi to come in and get Even sorted. But this is Even. His Even.

It makes him smile even thinking that in his head.

‘’Come on, you can sleep in my bed. But don’t breathe on me babe, because fuck. You stink like a brewery. And you need a shower.’’

‘’Smell like ruses. Roooses. Me. ‘’

Even is ridiculous. And by some kind of magic he is suddenly making his arms work as his clothes are falling off his body as he stumbles over to the bedroom door, falling face first onto the king-sized bed in the middle of the room. Jeans stuck around his ankles and his arms flayed either side of him.

It takes a few good attempts. Some tricky manoeuvring but Even is finally on his stomach under the covers, and Isak rips his hoodie over his head and slides down under the sheets next to him. Next to Even who is blowing alcohol fuelled spit-bubbles out of the corner of his mouth and snoring loudly face down into the pillow.

He strokes a few strands of hair out of his face, letting his fingertips trace the outline of his jaw. Softly letting the stubble on Even’s chin graze against his own skin.

‘’Sorry’’ Even mutters out. He was asleep, Isak is sure of it.

‘’No worries’’ Isak whispers back. He wishes the things Even had said were true. He wishes he was pretty and loved and Even’s. At least he can pretend. For a few minutes he lets himself lie there and watch Even rest. See his eyes move under his eyelids, his lips shivering softly with each breath.

He let’s himself pretend a little longer letting the bedside light dim and his thoughts come to rest. Fuck the glass of water next to him. He can’t see himself getting Even to sit up enough to drink it anyway. And he can’t see Even’s bag or his meds anywhere so fuck that too. They will deal with it in the morning. He will deal with Jonas and his judgmental looks. He will deal with Magnus sighs and teasing. The inevitable roll of Mahdi’s eyes at the state of the two of them tomorrow morning.

For now, he lets his forehead lean against Even’s bare shoulder. Feels the soft warm skin of his back under the palm of his hand. He shuffles close enough to let his leg touch skin under the duvet.

Isak never sleeps. Yet he can’t remember anything else until there is movement and voices and laughter and the sunlight streams through the curtains, sending glimmers of light dancing on the empty side of the bed.

Anther day, another dollar. And Isak has a sinking feeling that his life just got a lot more fucked-up than he needs it to be.


	9. NINE

 

 

‘’Fifteen minutes’’ someone shouts loudly into the back rooms where Isak is pushed into a corner being flanked by Magnus and Mahdi whilst Jonas is taking notes and waving his hands around to someone wearing a headset, and Even has rarely been off his phone since they got here.

The Fitzpatrick Grand hotel, whilst sounding like somewhere decent, in reality smells musky and damp, and if you look a little too closely at the paint on the walls it’s cracked and chipped. If someone thought this life was glamourous they are sadly mistaken Isak thinks as he lets his fingernail chip off another sliver of dried grey paint. His bum shifting uncomfortably on the standard conference chair he has been told to sit on, waiting for the ‘’Nothingness of Light’’ press conference to start.

At least his team is chilled, not like the Schistad Camp next door where there has been shouting and screaming and that Magnusson dude keeps stomping up and down the hall, sticking his head in the door and waving for Jonas to come out and speak to him in regular intervals. Jonas hasn’t even looked at Isak so he doubts that it is any of his business. Probably just Schistad being a wanker as usual and refusing to come out of his trailer like he used to do on set. Not that there are any trailers here, just concrete backrooms and a complimentary snack trolley that Isak can’t even look at. Plastic looking pastries and urns of tepid weak coffee, plus some glossy fruit that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a film set.

His stomach is churning but he couldn’t eat a thing. Not before something like this where his brain has to be in full on mode, so he doesn’t say the wrong thing. Churning out standard evasive answers like a politician in full election swing.

He’s so full of shit when it comes to doing interviews now, he has all the answers prepared in his head, knowing full well what they are going to throw at him. He has thought up a few good responses for questions about his relationships and private life. Not that he has one, but he likes pretending that there is something there, something quirky and amusing he can throw out that will be quoted all over the media until it is twisted and cut out of proportion.

He shook the directors hand earlier, a middle-aged man who he actually liked when they shot the film, but who barely acknowledges his presence now. The female lead is supposed to be here too, but she is nowhere to be seen. Typical of her to demand a late eye-catching entrance, sweeping in with a minute to spare making everything about her. He can tell in the tension around him, the rushed people with their headsets and clipboards, the frustration and worries. She’s pulling all the strings.

Isak hates all that, it would just add to his anxieties. He can function like this, the reassurance of his crew around him, and Linn who is curled up on the floor reading a magazine with her powder brush casually twirling between her fingers.

He almost jumps out of his skin when Even grips his knee, sitting down on his hunches next to him.

They have barely looked at eachother today, not that there has been any time to talk. Magnus dragged him out for a gruelling workout at the hotel gym, sealed off for their private use, then after a shower and a plate of food Isak can barely remember eating, Jonas had run down the schedule and then Isak had endured an hour of a live online feature for a radio station he still struggles to remember the name of, taped a commercial for said radio station where he still kept getting the letter combinations wrong, and signed 45 copies of the paperback novel for the film, apparently for a competition he is hosting. Jonas just laughs at his indifference.

He had just quietly patted him on the back and muttered some choice words whilst Isak drunk the water Magnus handed him and Linn had started tugging at his clothes.

‘’Eskild sent a new crate, he has changed his vision for the press conference. I think he’s right. You are now wearing an emerald green shirt from Prada, with a pink slashed t-shirt underneath. It’s a deep neck so he said to push it to the side to expose your right collarbone. Just to make it sexy. Eskild’s words not mine. We are accessorizing with the leather straps around your wrist, they are by Thomas Hayes again, and he said can you please rub your wrist and show them off. You know the drill. Draw attention to them. There is a matching strap to go around your neck but Eskild wants photos before he decides if you are wearing it. So, chop chop Ize. Strip. ‘’

Hence Isak now looks like some overgrown hippie popstar covered in leather bracelets and laces, with some fancy silk shirt hanging of his back and so much concealer under his eyes he is struggling to blink.

‘’You look tired’’ Even says calmly.

‘’Is that saying that I look like shit?’’ Isak hates that this is awkward. It shouldn’t be. They haven’t done anything. Not a thing. Really.

‘’No’’ Even kind of smirks. Looking down, almost like he is embarrassed. A little shy. ‘’You look like a freaking Unicorn. All sparkly and shiny and…’’ He lets his fingers stroke the fabric of Isak’s shirt.

Isak agrees. It’s ridiculous. Weird and hipster and will probably look amazing on camera, but it makes him feel self-conscious and loud. Because of Even. Because Even notices things. Touches him. And his hand is still firmly on Isak’s thigh.

‘’Blame Linn for the glitter. She thinks it suits me and apparently ‘’pops’’ my eyes whatever that means.’’ Isak is blushing. He hates it but he is. He’s an actor for fucks sake. He can pull off anything. Except apparently having a quiet normal conversation with Even Bech Naesheim breathing down his crotch.

Not that he actually is but it feels like it. Making Isak a little nervous and excited and feeling a little bit like an angst-ridden teenager all over again.

‘’You need the glitter. That is Eskild’s vision.’’ Linn mutters from the floor. ‘’You should have seen the leather straps he had planned Even. We dumped them. I don’t know what Eskild is smoking, but that shit was downright kinky. I am not putting my name on Isak looking like he is being tied up and fucked senseless with a gag ball around his neck.’’

Isak is just stunned into silence whilst Linn casually turns the page and looks at Even who is just staring at her with a little amused grin on his lips.

‘’You’re weird Linn. Weird but I love it. Now Isak.’’ Even rubs his nose and pushes the dark glasses up on his nose. ‘’Schistad is being an arse. He refuses to be seated next to you for the press conference. Everyone is having kittens.’’

Isak just rolls his eyes. Sighs heavily. Fucking wanker.

‘’I’m not going to lick him. Or kiss him. Or hold his fucking hand. For god’s sake Even, I can barely stand the bloke as it is. I promise to behave.’’

‘’Good. That’s what I told Magnusson. But honestly, Isak? Do whatever you want. Fuck, If I were you I would crawl under the table and pretend to blow him. But don’t. I need this job.’’

And now Even is blushing. Getting up a little too fast and pretending to look at his phone. Whilst Isak is grinning and rubbing the space on his thigh were Even’s hand had rested.

He doesn’t say anything back. Just closes his eyes for a second and wonders what it would be like. Having Even. Being able to go back tonight and curl up on Even’s lap. Have someone hug him until he felt better. Calm happy and not so antsy anymore.

Not that that is going to happen. It just isn’t. Because stuff like that doesn’t happen in real life. Not to people like him. It just doesn’t.

 

It’s funny how all his nerves seem to fly out the window as soon as the warmth from the lighting rig hit’s his face. He feels confident in the bright stage light as he takes his seat next to the director and casually winks at Schistad who is chewing lemons at the end of the table. Because Isak can see right through the fake smile he is sporting, right down to the fear in the corner of his eye. The slight twitch as he looks away and the over friendly half-hearted hug he gives their female colleague as she swans in accompanied to an enthusiastic applause from the gathered press in front of them.

The crowd have all had a press brief with suggested topics, and are mostly seasoned known-name journos with a reputation to protect. Jonas had scanned down the list and mouthed ‘’no surprises, the usual rags and stations. Chill Ize’’ as he had left to take to the side of the stage, whilst Isak took his seat on the panel to polite applauds, his hands  fisted with nerves.

He has no nerves now as he laughs politely at the director’s lame jokes and flirts shamelessly with Anita from NBC news and the editor form E!Online that he can’t for his life remember the name off. He gets asked about the undeniable chemistry between himself and Mr Schistad and Christoffer smirks and gives a seductive laugh as he waffles on about their professionalism and commitment to the story, whilst Isak looks at him with what he hopes comes across as adoration and not cleverly masked disgust.

He will gladly let the others take the questions, only cutting in to answer the things that he feels passionately about. Like his brief insight into the prison system, the dangers of addiction and his charity in Norway that empowers children who are caring for their parents with respite time during school hours to pursue activities they would otherwise not be able to enjoy.

He doesn’t mention why this is something he cares deeply about. He doesn’t go into his involvement with The LGBTQ youth organization he quietly runs. He doesn’t take credit for a lot of things he gets involved with. Not that he is that actively involved, only his wallet is, and Jonas, who he has to stop himself and quietly thank in his head, since Jonas actively runs most of his endeavours, sitting in on the board of directors to protect Isak’s anonymity. He wouldn’t manage without Jonas. Or Mahdi’s Dad who stepped in and took control of his finances, despite the management company screaming blue murder about letting a retired accountant in Oslo handle his funds. Isak wouldn’t change a thing. Neither would he change Sana who is one of the most feared women in Hollywood. She is dangerously frightening on her good days, yet she loves Isak to bits. He knows that, and she tows a fine line in maximizing his income vs preserving his sanity. It’s not all bad he thinks as he once again throws his head back in fake laughter at something he thinks he should laugh at. He has zoned out again. Fuck.

‘’Isak, how is Emma W? Are wedding bells on the horizon?’’ He recognizes the dude asking the question, and the hair at the back of Isak’s neck are indicating bad vibes galore. He can’t think where or when, but this is one of those. One of the humans who are stepping up the ladder trying to build a career of frontpage exclusives and carefully doctored one-liners.

‘’I am extremely proud of Emma and her achievements’’ he starts with a blinding smile, as his brain is scrambling to regain control. ‘’She is a very talented actress and I am fully supportive of her blossoming career and the exciting projects she has coming up.’’ He hopes his voice is as calm as he wants it to be, whilst his insides are screaming, wanting to shout out ‘’She’s a self-centred bitch and I don’t think we have actually said a whole sentence to eachother. At least not one that didn’t end with ‘Fuck Off’. ‘’

‘’And she has just announced to take a break from acting to concentrate on her charity projects, does this indicate that you might be spending more time together? That there might be some truth to the rumours that you are to become a father?’’ The dude looks like an over excited puppy. His hand fisted around the microphone in his hand like it’s a prize of some kind.

‘’Excuse me?’’ Isak laughs. ‘’Can you repeat your question please?’’

If Emma is taking a break from her undeniable quest for world domination, Isak is running for president. Honestly. She needs to go to rehab for her addiction to painkillers and get the eating disorder that causes her to only drink water and suck small spoons of sugar free jelly at regular intervals. She needs to take a chill pill. Drink something that isn’t a tiny sip of champagne and let go.

He knows he should be kinder, but he can’t find the motivation. He has dealt with women like this his entire career, women whose teams build brands based on having been associated with being seen on his arm. Not that he wants them there. Nobody has ever taken the time to get to know him, not even the girls who he actually talked to.

The journalist is looking at him with that look again, the look of expectation, and Isak does his ‘’God I am a charming fucker, and a little bit shy too. Look at me, I’m so fucking adorable that people just can’t help love me.’’ spiel, drawing some sympathetic ‘’ahwws’’ from the crowd. They love him. How freaking cute.

‘’Emma has a big heart and her charities are very important for her. She is striking a good work and life balance next year, dividing her time and assets between the projects she feels strongly about.’’

Isak is talking out of his arse and the journalist is rolling his eyes.

Me 1-You 0 arsehole, he thinks to himself as he smiles sweetly and gesticulates with his hand to move on to the next question.

One day he is going to lose his shit. One day he is going to sit there and say it as it is. Be honest with himself and the world and probably give his career the deserved death-kneel right there and then.

It’s getting to the point that he doesn’t really care anymore, and that in itself is scaring the shit out of Isak. Because if he’s not doing this, then what the hell would he do with himself?

 

He gets manhandled out the front door with Even’s arm around his waist and Magnus firm grip on his shoulder, as he smiles and waves at the fans outside. There are hollers from the Paps which Isak jovially responds to, making the crowd cheer as he heckles a well-known Pap for his insults. He chuckles to himself as he falls headfirst onto the floor of the van, whilst Even sinks down on the seat and starts tugging at him to get upright and actually sat down on the seat. Fastening the seatbelt around him like he is a child.

‘’You aced that Ize’’ Mahdi laughs. ‘’Good show. I was actually enjoying the spectacle of Schistad squirming over that dude asking him if his bisexuality had helped him develop the role. Bloody awesome question. ‘’ Isak just rubs his eyes and nods as Even fastens his own seatbelt, letting his hand grace Isak’s as he adjusts his legs to fit in the crowded space his legs are sharing with Isak and Magnus whilst Linn and Mahdi are chatting in the back and Jonas has hogged the front seat as usual.

‘’You _are_ a bloody unicorn’’ Even whispers into Isak’s ear. ‘’All glitter and magic’’.

‘’And you are full of shit’’ Isak whispers back.

Even smiles and Isak loves it. The blush creeping up on Even’s cheeks. It’s pretty obvious despite the dim light inside the car, and the dark glasses covering his eyes.

‘’You were brilliant up there. Those girls on the back row were creaming their knickers when you started talking about the nude scenes.’’ Even is still looking straight ahead, not even bothering to whisper.

‘’The girls usually do when Isak starts to talk about being naked and not being bothered that his cock is hanging out. You should google it. There are lots of nudes of Isak online.’’ Magnus offers, not even missing a breath whilst Isak half cringes in his seat.

‘’Nothing I haven’t already seen’’ Even deadpans back. ‘’And anyway, Isak’s cock is always better seen live. Isn’t that true Magnus?

‘’You can’t beat the real thing Even. Absolutely agree. So Isak. What are your views on Even’s cock. Does it live up to the dream or will I have to google for nudes?’’

Even’s giggle is infectious. His laughter making Isak’s stomach feel funny. Almost like drinking Champagne. All light and bubbly as he watches the traffic snake by in the evening rain down fifth avenue.

‘’Shut up’’ Isak giggles. ‘’Shut the fuck up Magnus.’’

‘’I’m googling for nudes then. Unless you have some on your phone you can show us Even?’’

There are no words really spoken after that. Just quiet giggles and soft laughter as Even’s hand carefully strokes Isak’s knee. Just a small touch. A simple graze.

The bubbles in his stomach keep moving. And Isak smiles into the faint reflection of himself in the car window as the city life of Manhattan pass them by. Crowds moving aimlessly across the busy sidewalks as the yellow taxi’s whizz past and the sound of a faint siren roars in the distance.

If he didn’t think so hard about it he would even have thought that this was what it felt like to be happy. Excited. Almost weirdly having fun.

‘’Unicorn’’ He mutters under his breath. ‘’I’m no bloody unicorn.’’

The reply is so faint that he can barely hear it. It’s there though. Even’s warm breath soft against his cheek.

‘’You are. You must be, because you make everything around you all right. I told you. Magic.’’

‘’Idiot’’ Isak replies. He doesn’t stop smiling until the car stops on the curb outside their hotel.

‘’We have 55 minutes guys, Evening dress and tuxes ladies and gents. We are expected at the New Yorker for the Imago fund's annual fundraiser at 8. We have a set slot for arrival on the red carpet so don’t be late. As soon as the Paps have had their shots and we have downed some complimentary booze we are out of there. Unless you have changed your mind about the cringe-worthy dinner Ize?’’ Jonas voice is back in boss mode. Sharp and efficient.

‘’Nope’’ Isak blurts out, his mind still lost in the cloud of dreams in his head. ‘’Nope. One drink and we split. ‘’

 

 

 


	10. TEN

Ten

It’s funny the difference a week makes. Whilst a week ago Isak would have whinged and made demands and sulked like a baby at Magnus and Mahdi going out to some sports bar to watch a game, Linn and Jonas wanting to stay at the charity dinner, yet here he was. Nodding whilst staying remarkably calm about the idea of going back to the hotel in the car on his own. With Even.

Like Isak would ever go anywhere on his own. He just doesn’t. But Even had nodded and pushed him into the car waiting in the covered Valet parking area down the road, and he had sighed in relief at the lack of anyone but security staff, and bored drivers standing around playing with their phones, waiting for their assigned clients to decide on leaving.

Not that they had talked in the car heading up Manhattan, not with Even constantly on his phone and the driver talking nonsense about the weather whilst Isak was trying to close his eyes and zone out.

 

For once in his life he knows what he wants. It’s just stupid as hell that he hasn’t got the guts to just reach out and grab it.

 

Because not only is he kind of Even’s boss. No scrap that, he is probably referred to as Even’s client, and the Client making demands on the Paramount assistant and pretty much throwing himself at him and demanding kisses and shit. Well it’s just wrong. Creepy. Stuff like that is what puts you on the front pages of newspapers where Paramount washes their hands of you and the Assistant sues the pants of you for sexual harassment.

Yet this is Even. Kind soft funny Even with his kissable lips and the prettiest twinkliest eyes that he keeps hiding under those sunglasses. There is also a vulnerability to Even that Isak would bottle in a little jar if he could. Something so loveable, that would win him awards galore if he could only figure out how to convey it on screen.

And Isak is fucked. Because he kind of realizes sitting there in the dark car moving jerkily along in the Manhattan traffic, that he is totally infatuated. Probably a little bit in love with this man next to him.

It shouldn’t be like that. He has worked with hundreds of assistants through the years, people who come and go in his life for different reasons and projects. But no one has been Even. No one has made him feel like this, like Even does.

It’s hard to put a finger on it, to find the words to describe it as Isak tries to glance across the back seat, watching Even’s long fingers hold the phone against his ear, mumbling quietly into the receiver.

He’s looking sad again, a little bit concerned. Almost frightened and Isak can’t help it. His body just reacts, because that is what he would do if it was Magnus or Mahdi. Jonas or Vilde. He reaches out and grabs hold of Even’s arm. Strokes it clumsily in embarrassment of his impulsive actions.

The breath of relief that comes out of his mouth is cringe worthy. The brief seconds of panic over, when Even’s hand reached up towards his and Isak thought he would swat him away. Instead Even had grabbed his hand and held on. Let his fingers stroke gently over the top of Isak’s hand, whilst he continued his conversation, letting the words tumble into the receiver with renewed energy.

 

‘’Thank you for using Golden Touch Limousines’’ The driver announces as the door swings open next to Isak. He hadn’t even noticed that the car had stopped, too deep in daydreams fuelled by Even’s steady strokes of his skin.

 

‘’Thank you’’ Isak mutters and takes the stride across the pavement in a fast pace, his head down and eyes on the ground. Hoping Even is right behind him because he feels a little bit exposed without the steady hands on his back and shoulders that his boys usually bring. Instead he has Even’s fist between his shoulder blades pushing him across the lobby and an overenthusiastic hotel worker holding the lift open for him.

 

‘’Mr Valtersen welcome back, let me escort you to your room. I take it your evening was pleasant?’’

She smiles. Yet Isak’s smile is more like a grimace as Even finally put’s his phone away.

‘’Floor 8, The Fantastic suite, is down to your left. ‘’ The lady is almost bowing in her enthusiasm walking backwards down the corridor pointing out the local art on the walls and waffling on about nothing, whilst Isak is looking helplessly at the back of Even’s head as he magic’s up a key and holds the door open for Isak to enter.

‘’Thank you Marielou’’ he says and turns on the charm, leaning over to kiss her cheek. ‘’Your service has been excellent.’’

Isak almost lets a giggle rip, as she blushes and gushes as Even closes the door behind them.

 

‘’Finally’’ Isak sighs. ‘’I can’t wait to get out of this suit.’’

He tries to meet Even’s eye. Hoping to get some dirty innuendo. A little joke. A smile. Anything?

‘’I’m heading down the bar’’ Even says and turns around.

 

And just like that he is gone.

 

 

It’s a cowardly thing to do, Even knows that. He saw Isak’s face. He knows this is just the most stupid situation he has thrown himself head first into.

It’s not that he minds the job, the job that has actually turned out to be quite interesting and rewarding in a strange mind-blowing way. Because Even has always enjoyed interacting with people and the people in this industry are mostly bonkers. Either too wrapped up in their own career to even notice that there is a whole world spinning quite happily around them, or too lost in the fake industry as it is. People who think they are important, and the people who look after them who think they are even more important than the important people they are important to.

He likes Magnusson, and they have agreed to go out for a few beers and get piss drunk, Norwegian style, once this circus is over. He’s a decent bloke walking a fine line between maintaining the sanity of his frankly fucked-up client, and pushing him forward in the career that could sink and swim in an instant.

Even also likes Isak. That is the problem. Because Isak is actually a dream to work for. He’s funny and quirky and surprisingly easy going despite his reputation in the industry.

 

He had a strongly worded email from the previous holder of Even’s position in the life of Isak Valtersen, and it was not complementary in any way or form. It described a spoilt demanding diva with an attitude to match and whilst Even can see where the dude would have come from, it’s not who Isak Valtersen is.

 

Because Isak Valtersen is terrified of his own shadow most of the time, and he is also insanely pretty.

 

Which is just a minefield, because it pushes every single button in the messed up emotional turmoil that is Even’s heart. He just wants to curl up around the man he has left up in that room. Wrap his arms around him and protect him from the world. Kiss him until he is breathless letting his hands tangle in the curls on his head, and yeah. The rest is kind of X-rated porn that keeps swirling around in Even’s brain as soon as Isak Valtersen is anywhere near.

It’s messing with his head.

His whole body pushing and pulling between wanting to throw himself at the bloke, and wanting to run as far away from the inevitable heart break that will follow once this job is finished. Because men like Isak Valtersen do not need some nobody hanging around. Not a washed up half blind idiot who has no idea what on earth he is going to do with his life once the final day of this tour is over.

Instead he over-tips the bloke behind the bar who has made him a cup of tea, in a proper china mug, for once following his instructions to the letter. Two teabags in a large mug with boiling water and a teaspoon. And milk on the side. Not fucking half and half or creamer or whatever they call the white shit they poison the coffee with on this side of the Atlantic.

The dude has done good, the 2% milk carton fitting snuggly in his pocket as he carefully balances the cup back over to the lifts.

 

He has thought this through in his head a million times, what he can say to make this work.

He has thought of lies. Carefully plotted words to make it seem like something it is not. He has even thought of just giving up. Telling Isak that this is not for him and fucking off. Not that he can afford to because at the moment he is unemployed and whilst his bank account is ok right now, there would only be so many weeks until he would be running terrifyingly low on funds.

His meagre belongings are in a self-storage facility in London, the flat he owns rented out to long standing tenants, who he doesn’t want to piss off by evicting them for no reason, since the rent he collects pays off his loans. So, he has a home he can’t afford to live in. A job that will kick him out in weeks. And an unexplainable crush on the dude he is here to work for.

He shakes his head and sighs as his hand shakes whilst letting the key card slide across the reader on the door. Lets his hip push into the room, scanning the emptiness for some kind of movement.

 

The suite is quiet. Silent.

 

He could shout. Do some sarcastic ‘’honey I’m home!’’ thing to make Isak laugh. He would as well. Pop all those dimples in his face and make Even’s chest all warm and his daydreams go into overdrive.

Instead he sits down on the sofa and kicks his dress shoes off. Carefully removes the teabags from the cup, squeezing them over and over against the side until the brew is rich and dark, almost stewed from the tea leaves. He adds just the right amount of milk to produce a strong amber liquid.

The warm drink is comforting against his lips, and he lets his eyes close and the glasses fall carelessly against the glass table. The lighting is soft enough that he can cope, and he wonders if Isak has thought about it. Turning all the lights down low for him when he comes back.

He could have just as easily ordered a whiskey. A strong double that would have soothed the nerves in his body. It’s not right though. Even has to do this. This has to be sorted so they can manage for the next few weeks, so things don’t go to shit. So Isak doesn’t mess with him and his heart stays in one piece. He has to fix this thing that has gone on for days. The attraction that keeps spiralling out of control, making him say things he doesn’t mean to release. Spurt truths when he should keep his mouth to well managed lies.

 

‘’You’re back’’ Isak’s voice is soft. Almost hitched in something that comes across as relief.

‘’You’re wearing clothes’’ Even retaliates before he can stop himself. He shouldn’t be flirting. This is exactly the thing he has to stop.

‘’I do own clothes. Although technically this is pyjamas.’’ Isak says softly, as he sits down next to Even on the sofa all dressed in soft jersey cotton with some airline logo on the front. Not too close. Yet not far away enough for Even’s pulse not to race. His face not to heat up with the impending task he has to do.

‘’I need to talk to you Isak.’’ He says, letting his eyes open and try to focus on the man next to him. Take in the mess of wet curls. The soft eyes. The small uncertain smile on Isak’s face.’’

‘’Talk’’ Isak says back. ‘’What do you need to talk about?’’

 

Even sighs. Puts the cup on the table and nervously twists his fingers.

 

‘’I’ve fucked this job up Isak. And we need to figure out how to make some changes so we can finish this tour without it all going to hell.’’

‘’Even’’ Isak starts. Reaching out to place his hand on Even’s arm again but, the hand that meets him doesn’t grab him. He get’s swatted away as Even looks down at his legs. His face twisted in what almost looks like grief.

‘’I’ve had the best week, and the fucking worst. I need to have surgery again on my eyes as soon as we get to LA, I’m booked in two days after the last gig with you. There is fluid pooling behind my eyeballs and they want to insert a stent to relieve the pressure. It won’t improve the eyesight, but might make the migraines more subdued. They don’t know. I am coping right now but I can’t keep taking all the painkillers long term. I’m really scared Isak. ‘’

‘’Even, we can cope with that. If you need to slow down a bit, I have done this with just the guys for years. You have done a great job, but we can cut it down. Ditch the social media bit. It’s not important.’’ Isak is trying to be supportive, his voice kind and strong.

‘’It’s not that, I love the job. I didn’t think I would enjoy it, but it’s been fun. The social media bit is hysterical. You should see your twitter account. You are really funny.’’

‘’Am I?’’ Isak looks genuinely surprised.

‘’I am. So, you are.’’ Even giggles, then he clams up again. He promised himself. No jokes. He needs to fix this.

‘’So? What is the problem?’’ Isak asks gently. ‘’Have I done anything to upset you? I don’t mean to, but I don’t always think and say shit that comes out wrong.  I know I can be a pain. Jonas tells me all the time.’’

‘’It’s not you Isak. You have been great. You are really fun to work for. That’s kind of the problem.’’

‘’I don’t understand.’’ Isak looks confused. A little bit concerned.

‘’Its just. I….’’ Even can’t even speak. His mind is blank. Suddenly he can’t remember anything. None of the words he had thought of make any sense, nothing that he can think of to say will make this better. So, in the end his mouth just says it. Blurts it out whilst his chest is heaving with emotion.

 

He has to fix this. End it so he can move on. So, he can mend whatever is happening in his head right now, making him bleed emotions all over the place when he should be sharp and effective. Professional. Smart.

 

‘’I’m in love with you Isak. I can’t function like this. I can’t do this job if I am going to walk around and be a lovesick wreck as soon as you are in the room. I’m really sorry, and I understand if you want me to leave. I can do that. I didn’t expect to feel like this but you are freaking beautiful and I’m just me. I like you. I like you a lot and It’s not fair on you having me being all unprofessional and weird just because I can’t get my feelings under control. ‘’

‘’It’s OK’’ Isak starts.

‘’It’s not OK. It’s not OK in any shape or form.’’ Even is running his fingers through his hair, strands of gelled hair now standing up at every angle, to the point where Linn would have screamed and run for a hairbrush had she been in the room. Which she luckily isn’t because Isak doesn’t quite know what to do and Even is looking distraught. Staring into his teacup whilst his hands are shaking.

 

‘’I deal with crazy fans all the time. I can deal with you.’’ Isak says softly. His hands reaching out then stopping mid-air. He doesn’t know what Even wants. He doesn’t know what he needs to do. How to be brave and be what Even needs right now.

‘’I’m messy Isak. I’d make a crap boyfriend. I wouldn’t wish that on you even if you wanted to. I mean look at me, I don’t even know what you identify as, if you even have feelings for me. I am just barging in here as usual spewing all my feelings on you because I don’t know what else to do.’’ His hand is up in the air. The teacup squelching tea all over his dress trousers as his hands clumsily grasp for the glasses so he can hide the tears pooling in the corners of his eyes.

 

‘’I’ve had crap boyfriends Even. You are nothing like them. You are lovely.’’ Isak is almost blushed pink with embarrassment. He should be saying the right thing here. Taking charge. Fixing this like a man.

He doesn’t know shit about how to fix Even Bech Næsheim. How to deal with the honestly mind-blowing truth Even has just thrown in his lap. He loves him. He is in love with him. Him. Isak.

 

He doesn’t deserve this. Really. Even has just made this far too easy on him. Yet so so hard.

 

He says it. Just says it out loud. The first thing that comes to mind.

 

‘’We fit’’ He says. A little bit louder than he intended. ‘’We fit, and I think if we tried we would be good for eachother.’’

 

Isak sounds like he is blurting out a script for a read-through. Not trying to woo the man in front of him. He sucks at this. Big time.

 

‘’We don’t fit. I’m a half blind unemployed cripple with no future. You have like all the future. We don’t fit at all’’ Even almost whispers.

 

‘’We fit.’’ Isak says, his voice a little stronger as he takes Even’s teacup from his hands. Places it on the table and lets his hands clumsily stroke the wet patches on Even’s trousers.

‘’You would grow tired of me. I’m nobody.’’ Even sighs. At least he is looking up. Looking at Isak through those damn glasses and Isak just goes for it. Climbs onto Even’s lap and straddles him whilst his hands push the glasses out of the way so he can see him. Really see him.

 

‘’You are amazing. And I like you too. I like you a lot. I almost burst into tears when you left earlier, because I was hoping you would come and sleep in my bed again. Cuddle me like you did last night.’’

Isak wishes he was braver. More confident. Wishes he could deliver his lines like a romantic hero in a rom-com. Put a little bit of humour in there so Even would laugh. Let his face open up and make his eyes glitter in the soft light from the side lamps.

‘’You give the best cuddles.’’ Even sighs. ‘’I’m sorry about that. I have behaved really unprofessionally. I will try to behave from now on. Be decent. ‘’

‘’I don’t want you to be decent. I want you to be just like this. Sleep in my bed and cuddle me and look after me and make me laugh and…’’ Isak has to let go of Even’s shoulders for a second so he can wave his hands around. Because right now he needs to find the words. Nail this role. Be Isak-Valtersen-the-brave. Go get his man. This beautiful wreck of a man underneath him.

 

‘’I love you’’ He almost squeaks out. ‘’I don’t want you to be different. I want you to stay and be my boyfriend. Love me. Please Even, just love me. Because no one has been like this before. No one has ever made me feel like you make me feel. And maybe I am a bloody unicorn, because you make me feel all magicky. ‘’

‘’Magicky?’’ Even’s face is lit up. A small twinkle in his eye.

‘’Whatever’’ Isak laughs. ‘’Whatever it is, is magic. Because you are bloody Harry Potter and I am your glittery unicorn or whatever. The truth is Even, I love you and you love me and the rest of this is frankly bullshit. ‘’

 

Way to go Isak, he thinks to himself as Even bursts out laughing. His face twisted up in dimples and tears and his head leaning back against the sofa and Isak leaning in. He can do this. He can bloody nail this getting himself a boyfriend thing. I mean he is Isak Valtersen after all.

‘’I love you Even, and I think you should be my boyfriend.’’ He says. Just like that whilst Even’s laughter is ringing in his ears.

‘’I’ve never met anyone like you’’ Even whispers whilst Isak’s face is hovering over him. A little too close. Hoping Even will take the lead, because Isak sucks at this bit too. The taking the lead. The whole kissing thing.

‘’Just shut up and kiss me’’ Isak whispers.

 

And Even does. All glitter and magic and fucking Harry Potter spells filling the space in Isak’s head where rational thought and sense used to live.

Soft pillowy lips sucking on Isak’s mouth, warm tongue flicking against his skin. Hands holding his waist, fingers gripping the fabric covering his skin.

 

And Even closes his eyes. Let’s himself drown with no hope of escape. His mind tumbling head first down the slippery slope he was trying so hard to escape.

‘’I love you’’ he whispers. ‘’I’m so in love with you’’.

‘’Then be mine’’ Isak replies.

And Even wonders if it can really be as simple as that.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	11. ELEVEN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut alert. Well more kind of dirty talk alert. Or something.....

It’s intoxicating and thrilling and gut-wrenching all in one strange mix of emotions in Even’s stomach. Because this is Isak. Not THE Isak Valtersen, the charming little minx of an idiot Even has trailed around after for the last week and a bit. This is Isak.

And _this_ Isak is _his_ Isak.

 

The difference is something even Even struggles to put words to, but he can feel Isak’s arms tremble as he flips his body over, dragging Isak down on top of his chest, their lips never loosing contact. They might have been at this for hours, kissing and licking and tasting and gripping onto each others clothes.

 

Still Isak is nervous. And that in it’s entirety has made Even fall in love with him all over again. It shouldn’t be this simple. It shouldn’t be this easy. Yet it is, because Even hums into Isak’s mouth and whispers things he can’t even believe he is spilling out of his mouth.

‘’You’re beautiful’’ he says. Over and over. ‘’So fucking gorgeous. You make me bloody crazy.’’

 

It’s not quite his normal repertoire. Usually when he makes out with a hot bloke he murmurs little encouraging words. Faster. More. Fuck you’re hot.

 

Even is not a man of many words when he is trying to get off, but with Isak trembling against him, his breath not quite steady, and the watery pools of greeny blue he gets an occasional glimpse off when he lets his eyes open up, trying to focus, is just making Even want to stop the world for a little while so he can just stay in this haze of happiness.

‘’I want you’’ Isak whispers. ‘’I want you all to myself’’

Even lets his hand wander, slowly trailing Isak’s ribcage through his top, sliding past the waistband and letting himself get a handful of that arse. Gripping the globe in his hand and squeezing whilst his breath hitches and his hips jerk and fuck he is poking his hard on straight into Isak’s and it’s so fucking hot. Such a turn on to hear Isak whimper above him. To feel his cock jerk against him as he twitches around trying to get his lips back on his mouth. Missing Isak’s tongue inside his lips, the taste of him. His breath. His hair between his fingers.

‘’I can’t wait to have you all naked’’ Even pants. ‘’I don’t think I can take it slow with you.’’

‘’I don’t want this to be over’’ Isak whinges back, his hand tugging at Even’s dress shirt again. He has managed most of the buttons, but Even is wearing his thermal vest underneath, which he is cursing right now. Because he get’s cold OK? And it might not be sexy but freezing your tits off at some event is not sexy either.

‘’ahhruurhghhgu’’ Even moans. He can’t help himself. Isak is latched onto his neck lick a limpet sucking bruises into his skin and it’s kind of embarrassing how sexy that is. It usually wouldn’t be Even’s thing, having people go all vampire on him, but because it’s Isak. Well fuck, he would let Isak do pretty much anything to him.

 

‘’What do you like?’’ Even whispers and licks a line up Isak’s chin. Flicking his tongue over the soft stubble on his jawline.

‘’What do you mean what do I like?’’ Isak mumbles back and latches his mouth onto Even’s collarbone. Sucking again. Biting. Letting his teeth scrape against the skin covering his bones.

‘’How do you like….Sex…I mean’’ Even knows this shit. You have to kind of negotiate sex. Check that you are both on the same page. Who does what.

 

It’s easier with girls, things are kind of expected to go in certain places, and sometimes with the added bonus of going extra places too, but with men you have to kind of ask. Unless people make it clear. Kind of get on all fours and poke their arse in the air begging for you to just to pretty much destroy them. Not that that would be Isak’s thing, because Isak is pretty hopeless to read right now.

 

‘’I don’t bottom’’ Isak says. It’s not even a question. And Even kind of stops.

‘’I only top’’ he blurts out before thinking. ‘’I don’t... I don’t like anal. To be on the receiving end…’’

‘’Oh…’’ Isak says and Even is blinking desperately into the light. He needs to see Isak. He needs to.

‘’There’s …. We can do anything you like’’ He tries. Well except fucking then. Which sucks. Because Even is damn good at fucking. And he wants to fuck Isak. Fucking desperately.

‘’Want to fuck you’’ Isak says, his eyes trying to focus as Even leans back so he can see Isak’s face. He wants to see him. Need to see him.

‘’Want to fuck you too’’ Even says and smiles. A small smile of creeping onto Isak’s face underneath him.

‘’We don’t fit then’’ Isak laughs. ‘’Oh well. We will just have to go out and buy matching flesh lights and masturbate like teenagers side by side then.’’ He giggles.

‘’Fuck that’’ Even laughs. I don’t need any thing else but you. Do you like oral? Can I at least blow you?’’

‘’You can blow me any time. I don’t mind giving head either, I’m no expert but I’ll get you off.’’ Isak says, with all his dimples on display. Leaning in and stealing another kiss.

 

‘’Have you ever bottomed?’’ Even asks. It’s cheeky to even ask, and he knows has no right to push.

‘’Nope. Not my thing. My arse is a one-way system only baby. Have you though? Have you tried it?’’

 

Isak’s face is sincere. Open. Happy, like they are discussing the weather, and Even can’t help laughing.

‘’Yes, and it bloody hurt. The guy topping was an arse, and neither of us finished. I know what I am doing when I top, it’s fucking awful if the other person isn’t enjoying it. Topping is all about making the other person feel amazing, to the point that they almost lose their mind. That is what good sex is about. I would never hurt anyone, or make them feel uncomfortable. ‘’ Evens hands are back on Isak’s face. Letting his nose stroke the skin on Isak’s face.

‘’I’d make you feel amazing’’ Isak whispers. ‘’I had this fling with a dude on set, he loved bottoming, pretty much begged me to fuck his brains out. I didn’t know what I was doing, I was only 19 or something, but he gave me the beginners guide to his arse and I have never looked back. I could make you come, with your hands tied to the bedposts, your legs in the air and my fingers in your arse, and you would shoot totally hands free within 10 minutes. I promise you. I’m damn good with my fingers.’’ Isak looks sincere as well.

‘’Tempting baby,’’ Even snickers and winks. Well he tries to wink. His eyes don’t always do what they are told, but at least he is leaning in at an angle where Isak’s face is pretty much in focus and the light is soft enough that he can cope. ‘’Thanks, but no thanks. I would eat yours though. Lick your pretty little hole until you were squirming and begging me to do anything to you. Then I would poke the tip of my tongue into your tight little pucker and prod and make you squirm and pant until you were begging for my fingers. ‘’

Even lets his tongue poke out. Licking into Isak’s mouth, firm little stabs like he would have done to that gorgeous arse of his if only Isak would let him. ‘’I would make you beg me to fuck you.’’ He pants. He would as well.

‘’Baby, you would make me beg you to do anything I am sure. As long as it was my dick in your arse baby. Those are the rules. ‘’ Isak laughs. He is freaking adorable. Bloody stubborn little shit.

‘’No honey, you are a little confused. All that champagne earlier has gone straight to your head baby.’’ Even snickers. ‘’That would be this very ample cock here…’’ He jerks his hips under Isak. ‘’…. Going up this pretty little tight hole here...’’ Yep Even squeezes Isak’s arse again, drawing another laugh out of Isak who leans down and presses his forehead to Even’s.

‘’Don’t you know who I am?’’ He laughs out, his voice almost distorted with laughter. ‘’I’m Isak Valtersen, the actor. And whatever I say goes. Didn’t you know?’’

 

Even just puckers his lips, begging. He will take anything right now because there is nothing cuter or more adorable than this dork of a man who is laughing on top of his chest, his breath warm against Even’s face.

‘’You are such a nerd.’’ He sighs, tenderly still stroking Isak’s hair with one hand whilst his hips are still involuntarily jerking under the weight of Isak. ‘’One minute you are all shy and almost scared, the next minute you go all bossy and ‘look at me I’m the big Isak Valtersen’ on me’’.

‘’I am the big Isak Valtersen, and by the way, as you know I am pretty big size wise. You could have a taste of that if you only would let me.’’ Isak giggles into Even’s mouth. Still letting an array of little kisses find their way onto Even’s face.

‘’In your dreams.’’ Even replies. Greedily kissing Isak back. Those kisses are bloody addictive. So Is Isak, who’s hard on hasn’t gone anywhere, and the wetness of him is now seeping through Even’s dress pants, and he makes a mental check to make sure he doesn’t actually need them tomorrow.

‘’No fancy dress needed tomorrow?’’ he checks with Isak.

‘’Nope. All casual tomorrow, so I can rip these pants off you and not worry about the consequences then?’’ Isak says letting his body rise up until he is straddling Even, his fingers working the belt open.

‘’You are so different at times Isak. Almost like you have different personalities that come through when you are working, and when you are here, with me, you are someone different again.’’

‘’Is that good or bad?’’ Isak stops and just looks at Even, who is desperately trying to focus again.

‘’It’s good. You are kind of sweet and cheeky and soft and strong in one very cool package. ‘’ Even starts. ‘’That makes you sound like a packet of sweets or something. Sorry. ‘’

‘’You are weird.’’ Isak laughs, letting his hand slide up under Even’s thermal vest. ‘’Sit up so I can get your clothes off. ‘’

‘’See? Now you are all bossy again.’’

 

Even still lets his arms go over his head. His shirt getting thrown across the room. His chest finally bare, with Isak’s hands roaming freely over his pale skin.

‘’You make me brave.’’ Isak whispers, his stare firmly on Even’s chest. ‘’You make me feel like I don’t have to pretend to be anyone else. Because you have seen me being me now, and you still fell in love with me. I don’t know how I deserve that, but It makes me feel amazing just hearing you say it. That somehow, I have made you feel like that. It’s pretty cool. ‘’

‘’You are pretty cool.’’ Even says back, his heart suddenly beating out of his chest. Because Isak’s eyes are right there, in focus. Right in front of his face, Isak’s hands tightening around Even’s cheeks, and it takes every effort in his body not to burst into tears.

‘’You are so fucking beautiful.’’ His voice is not strong. No where near steady, full of trembles and emotion.

‘’There is something wrong with your eyes.’’ Isak whispers back. ‘’I’m nothing special. It’s you. You must know it Even, how stunning you are. Even with that frown on your face and those damn glasses, you are just gorgeous.’’

‘’I love you’’ Even croaks out. ‘’I fucking love you.’’

‘’Then shut up and let me love you right back.’’ Isak says, kissing the end of the words out of his mouth.

 

He holds him down, Even falling back against the sofa whilst Isak holds his arms down over his head, kissing his way down his neck.

It’s pretty confusing. Dizzying in it’s simple-ness. Small touches of lips over his bare skin. Flicks of tongue over the brown skin off his nipples. Warm breath over his prickled skin, where the goose bumps forming are making him shiver. He is not cool, yet he is overheating, his arms grappling over the armrest as his hips jerk out of the trousers, Isak making light work of getting him naked. He’s good at this. Swiftly getting Even’s leg up over the back rest of the sofa and pushing his other leg on to the floor, whilst Isak’s body finds itself a snug home between his legs.

‘’Fuck’’ Is all Even can sigh as Isak takes him in his mouth. The boy doesn’t mess about. Fuck. Fuck FUCK.

‘’You are going to have me coming.’’ Even pants out whilst Isak pushes his stomach back down and His hips are all over the place and his cock is wedged up at the back of Isak’s throat. He’s not even gagging although Even is pretty sure he winks when he manages to catch sight of him before he has to throw his head back again. Because Isak wasn’t wrong about him being pretty good with his fingers. And his mouth. And there is tongue action going on and wet sloppy sounds and Even’s cock is so very expertly taken care of and he usually lasts longer than this. He usually knows how to pace himself and pull back, not let his body loose control like he is now, thrusting his hips and letting his cock fuck into Isak’s mouth whilst there are warm fingers squeezing his balls and teasing between his arsecheeks and he wants to shout out to Isak to get the hell away from his hole but it’s too late. Far too late as Even’s body falls into bliss, his back arched off the sofa, his legs twitching and his mind going blank and quiet.

He wants to shout. Scream. Howl Isak’s name as he releases down Isak’s throat, as his mouth is greedily sucking him dry. Instead he is stunned into silence, only managing a pathetic little gasp as Isak lets him go with a pop.

 

‘’Fuck you are even more beautiful when you are wrecked.’’ Isak smiles, crawling up Even’s limp body with a content grin on his face.

‘’Uhhgnnho’’ comes out of Even’s mouth. He can’t even think straight.

‘’Now, how about I just stay right here, and feed you something nice whilst you come back down baby’’ Isak hums as he leans his cock down over Even’s face.

 

Cheeky little fucker, Even thinks. Full of surprises.

 

‘’I thought you were a nice shy Norwegian boy under all that actor crap’’ He manages to grin out before his mouth is filled up by cock.

‘’I am a nice Norwegian boy.’’ Isak smiles back. ‘’No suck my cock and make me come so I can take you to bed and cuddle you baby.’’

 

Even just smiles around the warmth in his mouth. Sucks the skin and hums as Isak goes deep. Pushes at his hips and relaxes his throat, revelling in the salty taste hitting the back of his tongue. Closes his eyes and lets himself feel. He loves this. He loves how Isak can’t keep still. How the noises coming out of his mouth are erratic and desperate. How his stomach is soft and warm against his forehead, the skin on his hips taught against Even’s hands.

He loves that Isak let’s go. That he pants and whimpers as his hips jerk. That he gives it to Even when Even asks, when he begs with his hands to go deeper. Pushes him in as far as he can take him. In and out in heavy thrusts until Even’s eyes are watering and he is coughing and gagging and Isak keeps thrusting and it’s all dirty and weird and awful and crazy and soo soo good, until Isak stills. Freezes in the spasm of orgasm, whilst Even’s cock is jerking with wanting to go again and his jaw is aching and his mouth is full and there is come spluttering out of his mouth.

 

Then Isak is there, and somehow it is perfect.

 

He is right there, snuggled into Even’s chest panting into his neck and whimpering when he doesn’t quite fit against the backrest. Pushing and snuggling until he is right where he wants to be with Even’s arms tight around his body.

‘’I love you’’ Isak says sleepily into Even’s skin. ‘’and you love me even though I am a bit of a mess.’’

‘’You are a mess’’ Even snorts, his voice barely a croak. ‘’We both are.’’

‘’It doesn’t matter though.’’ Isak says a-matter-of-factly. ‘’We fit.’’

‘’Of course we do.’’ Even laughs softly. ‘’We most definitely fit.’’

 


	12. TWELVE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait inbetween updates but work, family and general real life has to take priority some times. You should have more updates this week! Yay! I am also working on a brand new much lighter happier fic that I am hoping to publish all in one go for you to enjoy. Eek! 
> 
> As always thank you for all the love kudos and comments. It makes my day that real life people actually read what I churn out to the soundtrack of Peppa Pig on TV! xxxx

 

 

Even didn’t plan on the morning becoming what it did, but then he didn’t really think. He didn’t put his head into work-mode. Because if he had he wouldn’t have been sitting like a fucking imbecilic twat, like totally naked in bed, staring at Jonas screaming at Isak to get the fuck up since they are due WNYC Radio at 5.30. In the morning.

He had hoped for some lazy morning cuddles. A load of kissing and hopefully another chance to blow Isak. Blow him away with his excellent skills in the cock-sucking department. Instead he is hopping around on one leg trying to find last night’s underpants in the mess for the living room floor, whilst Linn is staring him with an amused smirk from her seat at the impromptu styling slash breakfast table. She’s done good this morning, the table bulging with coffee mugs and Even spots the Teapot with a triumphant grin, with two teabags dangling from the side. He’s still naked though, covering his decency with his dress shirt from last night.

‘’Last night’s suits need to go in the dry cleaning, because we are using them for Chicago’’ Jonas drones out whilst still on his phone. ‘’Even I need you to be on top of that shit, they all need to be back in the cubes by 5 tonight, luggage is going ahead of us, were flying out at 9. And for fuck's sake Even, count everything. Shirts, bow-ties trousers…’’

‘’Chill Jonas’’ Even hisses. At least his head is clear. Ish. Not that he can see much in the bright light as he fumbles around with his eyes closed, trying to get hold of the familiar softness of his jeans.

He needs a hug. He needs a fucking hug and he needs Isak to give it to him. Just calm him down a bit and reaffirm all the things that went down last night. He needs to get Isak to tell him it’s all still on, this love thing. This whole be my boyfriend crap they were toying around with last night whilst they were high on the cockiness of sex and orgasms and blowjobs.

Not that he will get one because Jonas is whipping Isak into some kind of robotic getting ready frenzy as he storms into the room, still wet from the shower wearing just a towel and some well-placed hickeys down his neck. Not that Linn even blinks, just pushes him down on the chair and hands him a mug of coffee whilst getting right into his curls with her damn hairbrush.

Isak looks fine. Isak looks bloody adorable. Isak is his.

Even is panting like a rabid dog. Fuck. He needs to get a grip before he loses his shit.

 

Not that there is any time to lose his shit, because it was kind of Even’s job to get Isak up at 4 and get him showered and ready. It’s in his schedule. He just kind of slipped into this Isak love-coma in his head. So now he his throwing his few meagre possessions into his bag, counting in his meds according to the custom sheets, and popping this morning’s pills in his mouth whilst heading straight for that teacup on the table.

 

They are all there. All of them. Giving him looks.

Magnus is almost spluttering with laughter. ‘’Oh man Even. You have got it bad.’’

‘’What?’’ Even lies. Guilt written all over his face.

‘’Isak and Even sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G’’ Mahdi singsongs whilst not even taking his eyes off his phone.

Isak just grins. Smiles that fucking smile of his that makes Even all week in the knees. Face full of dimples and sparkles and bloody magic radiating off him making Even’s shoulders fall and his face relax into the blush that is creeping up his cheeks.

‘’Hi baby’’ Isak whispers.

‘’Fuck off you two’’ Linn snarls.

‘’Hi’’ Even mouths. He doesn’t give a fuck about the snickers around the table. The supressed laughter. Jonas snort from the door way where he is still on hold with someone. Whatever. All that matter is Isak. And the smarting headache creeping up on him since Even is still bumbling around in the morning light without his glasses.

 

It’s nice when the world is bright and happy for a change, when he can see almost clearly in front of him and pretend that he is fine. That this headache isn’t a fucking worry. That he shouldn’t google his condition late at night when he can’t sleep. And that he knows full well that he could go completely blind if he doesn’t take this shit seriously and calm himself down. Take his meds. Sleep well at night. Don’t work too hard. And protect the little vision you still have left.

How can he though? It pains him to put the dark glasses back on because then he can’t see Isak. He hates when he dulls him out with the dark lenses. When his hair loses the gold specks, and Even can’t make out the green in his eyes. It’s not fair that the world is allowed to see all his beauty when Even can’t.

 

At least he downs the cup of tea whilst it is still hot and gives Linn a kiss on the top of her head, since she remembered to order him proper milk. It’s the little things. The details people remember. The tiny things that makes his heart sing this morning.

He is not thinking straight, and he should probably hand over the reins to Jonas today, before he really fucks up. Because not only is he all fuzzy around the edges vision-wise, but he just can’t think clearly today, too caught up in the haze of all things Isak.

They still make it into the car, and Jonas is shouting out instructions and schedule changes from the front seat, whilst Isak is crammed between Mahdi and Magnus in the middle, and Linn and Even are somehow sharing the cramped space in the back row of the van.

If anyone thought that this life was all glamour, limo’s and champagne then they need their heads examined, Even thinks as he tries to move his legs into some kind of position where he doesn’t feel like they are trying to play sardines in a tin. They travel in shitty incognito vans. Drink luke-warm bottled water and struggle to get enough food in them to actually function. He can’t remember when he last had a decent meal of meat potatoes and a truckload of vegetables, because the dinner last night was so haute cuisine that Even can barely remember what it was supposed to be. Some foam reduction infused with something ridiculous that barely filled the hunger in his stomach. And now that croissant he jammed down his throat is repeating on him and Isak is whinging about porridge in the front seat and Jonas is grumpy as hell.

 

It’s almost 2 hours later when Isak is cute as hell sitting in the studio with his headphones on charming the pants off the New York commuters over the radio waves, that Jonas sits down next to him and shoves a bagel in his hand. The greenroom outside the studio is deserted apart from the two of them, sitting on the threadbare sofas whilst some bored intern wearing headphones shoves two cups of coffee in front of them. There are coffee stains on the table. Coffee stains on the carpet. Fucking coffee everywhere.

‘’I don’t know whether to punch you or hug you.’’ Jonas sighs, his mouth full of bagel and cream cheese.

‘’Sorry’’ Even mumbles, trying to figure out how to chew and swallow and talk at the same time.

‘’Isak is not like everyone else Even. You can’t just mess around with him and then fuck off in a few weeks’ time. He doesn’t function like that.’’

‘’Who said I am messing with him and then fucking off? You can’t just assume I am an arse.’’ Well he can. Because Even’s track record with boyfriends isn’t exactly brilliant, but then he has never felt like this before. Honestly.

‘’You are an arse Even. But you are sound. You are a good bloke and I need you to do the right thing here. Isak has a 20 million film starting in 2 months. If he can’t fulfill that contract because you fucked him up, then we have a major problem. He’s a good person Even, but he’s not built for shit like this. He doesn’t fuck around and believe me I have tried to get him to, to get some of that shit out of his system so he can relax, but he doesn’t want that. He wants someone to be with, like full on.’’ Jonas is rubbing his forehead trying to get his words together.

He sounds like an arse himself and Even doesn’t blame him. This is just not the kind of conversation either of them should be having.

‘’I get you are trying to protect him. But Isak is a grown-up man, he has to speak for himself Jonas.’’ Even is an arse too. Period. Because he knows what Jonas is getting at. Honestly.

‘’Isak is not going to come out because of you. You are never going to be the one that tames him and does the People magazine front cover declaring your undying love and shit. He can’t do that. You know how the industry works Even, and Isak has a few more years, tops, until he will have had enough. Please don’t take that away from him.’’

‘’Jonas’’ Even starts. Rolling his eyes and wiping some cream cheese from the corner of his mouth. ‘’It’s not like that. I don’t care about the public part of this. I just want to be the one he sleeps next to at night. The one that hugs the shit out of him every morning. He makes me smile, and this week has been the happiest  I have been in months. Please don’t take that away from me.’’

‘’It’s going to all go to shit. Sana will freak.’’ Jonas sighs into his bagel. And Even does  get it. Truly.

‘’As long as you will have me on the team, I can stay. Nobody needs to know. Just don’t make him have a public girlfriend again, because he can’t stand that. Can we just try to let him be himself for a little while? Because he is awesome when he is just who he is. I mean look at him. The little shit.’’

Jonas actually laughs. Because Isak is obviously doing some full-on rendition of something that everyone is finding hilarious, muffled laughter from the studio seeping out into the waiting area where they are sat.

‘’Promise me, that you won’t fuck him up Even. If you do, you will meet a sticky end in a back alley. Literally. I am a pacifist and won’t promote any kind of violence, but trust me, you will wish you had never met me if you hurt Isak. In any fucking way. ‘’ Jonas is staring intensely at the studio glass. Chewing methodically whilst his hands are trembling.

I love him. Even wants to say it. Stand up and shout it out. I am so fucking gone for him that it’s not even funny. Instead he swallows the last piece of bagel and takes a sip from the god damn awful coffee they have sitting in front of them. It tastes like piss and doesn’t even start to cure the dryness festering in Even’s throat.

‘’I will make him happy’’ he blurts out. Then he shakes his head and cradles his head in his hands. ‘’Jonas, he is amazing. He is so fucking special and funny and cheeky and wonderful and I can’t even start to describe it. But you know him better than I do. You know who he is. Just let me try to make this work, to see if I can make him happy. Because I think we could be good for eachother. I think. ‘’

Jonas just nudges his shoulder.

‘’You need to be fucking clear on one thing Even. One simple thing. You hurt him, you die. And it won’t be just myself coming for you. Our people will take you down. Your life will be over. Is that clear?’’

It’s funny hearing Jonas this angry. This full of emotion, because he is usually so chilled, however late and lost they might be. But then this is Isak, and it makes Even a little emotional realizing that Jonas must love him too. Love him to the point that he is sitting here spouting lame Hollywood action movie threats whilst there are tears in his eyes.

‘’Will you help me?’’ Even almost chokes out. ‘’Will you help me look after him? Keep an eye on him and let me know if I am doing it wrong? Because I don’t want this to go to shit because I don’t understand when I’m not doing enough. If he is not happy, will you tell me? So, I can fix it?’’

‘’Arsehole’’ Jonas chuckles.

‘’You are still the boss. You can sack me if you want. But I won’t go. I am still staying with him until he sends me away. You can’t make me leave. ‘’

‘’You better not’’ Jonas snorts. ‘’He could do with being happy.’’

‘’He makes me happy. He makes me feel like I’m floating on some bloody happy drugs. ‘’ Even smiles, hoping that Jonas has calmed enough to smile back. ‘’And not real drugs. I don’t do drugs.  Apart from all the meds, but that’s like meds. No others. Promise.’’ He’s rambling. Being a prick.

‘’I know.’’ Jonas eyes are twinkling again. A little smile creeping up his face. ‘’Do you really think you would be here without a proper background check? No more drinking yourself into a stupor and crawling back drunk though. Once was enough. There is CCTV everywhere and it doesn’t matter who the hell you are, you cause any kind of drama, it looks bad on Ize. So, behave. I will be watching you.’’ Jonas does it. He actually does it. The bloody ‘’eyes on you’’ gesture like some mafioso dude, when Even knows Jonas is just a bloody suburban Oslo kid deep down. Just like himself. They’re just two fucking kids who got lucky enough to move. To find themselves so deep in over their heads out in the real world when in reality they should just go home. Crawl back to the little shithole they came from and realize that they are really nothing.

‘’Wanker’’ Even giggles.

‘’Of all the dudes in the world Ize has to go and pull the blind dude. ‘’ Jonas snickers.

‘’The Norwegian blind wanker with no future. I’m like his worst gold-digging nightmare’’ Even laughs.

‘’He should make up with Emma. Fuck you’’

‘’Fuck you too.’’ Jonas is actually laughing. Shaking his head whilst his fingers are dancing over the screen on his phone.

‘’I’m telling Sana. She will have to draw up a water tight contract for you, you understand that don’t you? And no public displays of affection. Just don’t. Let him do this on his own terms, and let Sana pull the strings. Deal?’’

Even just nods, as they both stand up as the studio door opens and Isak emerges, shaking the hands and nodding, his blinding smile in full Isak Valtersen mode.

And Even smiles until his cheeks hurt. He can’t help it. Not when Isak’s hand is discreetly slipping a finger in his back pocket. When Isak’s breath is hot on his cheek. Not when Isak is whispering in his ear, whilst Jonas is leading the way down the concrete staircase to the  entrance of the studio where the van should be waiting guarded by Mahdi and Magnus.

Unfortunately they walk straight into another sea of paparazzi swarming over the pavement, the flashes of the cameras going off in their faces as Even tries to shield Isak from the push of the crowd, as Magnus and Mahdi are holding back the bodies pushing towards them. There are fans with phones held high screaming Isak’s name. Flashes pounding their faces in the early morning sun. Screams and taunts from the paps trying to get their angles right. It’s mayhem. Frightening doesn’t even begin to describe the panic in Even’s chest. It’s just wrong. Inhumane. Vile.   
The door slamming shut behind them makes everyone hold their breath for a second until the van moves out in the traffic, a few girls still running along side them banging on the windows.

‘’Sorry, we couldn’t get a message to you, we were swarmed within minutes of Isak going on air. It was just too many of them for us to control.’’ Magnus shouts.

‘’Careful’’ Jonas has his head out the window, shouting to the fans to step away from the cars. To please look out for themselves and not get hurt. It’s not worth it, he shouts as a camera is shoved in thought the open window, shooting a flash off right in Even’s face. He has somehow lost his glasses in ruckus and whines in pain with the sudden light. At least Isak is on the floor, his head nestled in Mahdi’s lap. Linn shouting indecent insults in Norwegian from the back seat as Magnus is on the phone calling in extra security.

‘’Oh fucking hell’’ Jonas exclaims as the window finally slides closed next to him. ‘’Everyone OK?’’

Isak is still on the floor, panting too hard for Even’s liking.

‘’What the fuck happened there? What was Sana thinking?’’ Mahdi growls, jerking around in his seat trying to keep an eye on the traffic behind them.

‘’Left’’ Jonas shouts at the driver, ‘’we need to shake the Paps in the green van.’’

‘’Fuck’’ Even shouts and tries to shield Isak as the van does a steep turn. ‘’We need to get seatbelts on, for god’s sake this is not a stunt shoot, we’re all going to get killed!’’

‘’So over dramatic Even’’ Linn snarls from the back, with her head in her phone. ‘’Well thank you Emma.’’ She sighs. Not even looking up.

‘’What about Emma?’’ Isak whimpers, trying to get up in the seat whilst Even is holding onto the seatbelt, ready to strap him in.

‘’She had some kind of breakdown in public last night. Shouted at some agency paps and flashed her boobs. There are pictures everywhere, and by the way Isak, she also told everyone that you are Gay and fucking your assistant. Could explain the pap mayhem.

The car is silent after that.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to whoever prompted the Emma bit. Great idea! Just had to roll with it didn't I! xx


	13. THIRTEEN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thick and fast updates all week! Yay! Thank you to the lovely '' I'm a bird'' for her excellent prompts!!! Happy Easter people!

Chicago turns out to be completely on the ball, much to Isak’s relief. It’s great when you can actually kick back and let the staff on the ground do their thing, because Laura, the lady who has just super swiftly and damn efficiently removed the 6 of them from the flight from hell (Turbulence, rabid fans high on Isak-induced-hysteria, and a stray pap with a trigger-happy finger that the cabin crew luckily took out with a few choice words) is absolutely brilliant. She has already cleared them through passport control via the back offices of immigration and has someone picking their luggage off the belt before Jonas even has to ask. And on top of that she is not the least phased by who he apparently is. Not that he feels like a big celebrity right now, standing with his chin on Even’s shoulder in some back office, whilst Jonas is out finding their ride.

‘’You OK kid?’’ Laura asks, patting him gently on the shoulder.

‘’Yes, Thank you.’’ He says politely. Trying to smile.

New York had descended into a shitfest of paps everywhere, journo’s not sticking to the approved questions, Schistad once again throwing a tantrum and despite the extra security guys it just didn’t feel right. It felt forced and weird and Isak was not on the ball. It had been a relief for them all to pull out of the last event and head for an earlier flight, hoping to fool the paps into leaving them alone at JFK. At least Laura has promised a pap free zone at Chicago O’hare, having had their security clear out anyone with a camera during the last hour.

‘’It’s all bullshit, this celeb business. I know that, but don’t take it all too seriously. I had that Taylor Swift girl crying in here last week, blubbering about her life being shit. It’s not that bad kiddo. Promise. ‘’ Laura winks at him and he has to laugh.

‘’I was Taylor’s fake boyfriend for a while. She’s actually a nice girl, and a really good songwriter. You know that song on her ‘’Ballet’’ Album? The one called ‘’Boyfriend?’’ I wrote the lyrics to that with her over coffee in LA a few years ago. But the lyrics she ended up recording are slightly different from the actual lyrics we wrote. I still get royalty checks though, and My alter ego, the great one hit wonder songwriter ‘’T J Moe’’ , is credited on the album. She didn’t have to do that, but she’s very honest. A very very cool chick.’’

Laura just cocks her head. ‘’Do I want to know what the original lyrics were kid?’’ She laughs.

‘’Nope. Because that would be giving away far too much about what we were actually talking about that afternoon’’ Isak laughs.

‘’You’re no fun’’ Even elbows in. ‘’Now we will all want to know what Boyfriend song is really about. Poor Laura here will never sleep tonight if she doesn’t find out’’.

‘’Absolutely.’’ Laura laughs. ‘’You will just have to tell me now. I promise to go and download the album later, you will even get royalties off me. Just tell me a little bit. A few lyrics….’’ She is leaning back against the desk behind her, teasing with the laughter twinkling in her eyes whilst her walkie talkie is crackling against her chest.

‘’There is a line in 'Boyfriend' that goes: ''Watch me watch my boyfriend work the dancefloor, all eyes on me, watch me steal the thunder as I show him how it’s done, all eyes on me.’’ Isak’s eyes are twinkling and Even is just watching him. All eyes on me, for sure Isak thinks. He loves that song. Seriously.

‘’The lyrics we wrote had the chorus going ‘’Watch me watch my boyfriend fuck your boyfriend, all eyes on me, watch me steal the thunder as I show him how it’s done, all eyes on me.’’ It would have been banned all over with those lyrics, but fuck we had such a ball writing that. She has promised me to sing the right lyrics if I ever make it to one of her shows. We made a deal. I will be filming from the side to make sure she sings the right words. I mean, it will be my once in a lifetime moment, Taylor Swift singing my lyrics. ‘’

Isak is all animated when he is like this. Just funny and relaxed and entertaining and making Laura laugh out loud as he sings the lyrics, twerking around in the cramped office floor. He can dance. He still has the moves imprinted in his bones since the dance movie he did a few years back. He had loved that.

‘’That’s the moves from Pirouette’’ Even blurts out. He can’t believe he actually watched that film. And Isak blushes. Smiles, but blushes.

‘’Great film!’’ Laura claps her hands. ‘’That dance battle between you and Zendaya was just epic. God My son still loves that film.’’ Her radio crackles again and she pulls Isak in for a quick hug.

‘’There kiddo, coast is clear. Your boys have the car outside, just walk with me and we will have you on your way.’’

Isak is grateful. He really is.

 

It’s more difficult when you sit in silence and the thoughts start to churn in your head again. Not that he has any problem with being out. He would love to be out. It just shouldn’t be such a big thing. It’s only him. Him and his feelings and it shouldn’t be anyone’s business. Well except Even’s then, because Even is kind of the only thing that has kept him from losing his shit and kicking a hole in a wall today. And Sana of course. Sana who is flying out to meet them tomorrow, her voice all full of cheer and fight. She said she has a plan, and Isak trusts her. He knows she will come up with something to make this better. To make life a lot simpler than it has been.

They glide effortlessly through the almost empty streets of downtown Chicago, past the late-night diners along the magnificent mile, and people walking home along the Lake shore. It’s blustery and cold as he steps onto the deserted pavement outside the hotel, but Isak doesn’t mind. It always reminds him of home, cold wind on his face and the chill through his jeans making him shiver.

Shivers are a good distraction though, because for once he can’t wait to get to that hotel room, where he can just get his clothes off and pretty much tell Even to get naked and roll into bed with him. Not that it’s particularly sex he needs. No, he needs Even. All of him. He needs to just lie skin to skin, his heartbeat against Even’s, their bodies kissing eachother until they are pretty much merged into one human being.

It’s pretty desperate how fast Isak can move when he really wants to. Not that he minds the doormen asking for a quick selfie. He even smiles. He also flirts shamelessly with the poor receptionist until she looks like she is about to faint and repeatedly drops his room key  before he steps around the desk and picks it up himself. He also pretty much drags Even over to the lifts, shouting at Jonas not to even bother waking them up before noon. They have until then at least. He hopes. Sana said noon. And he deserves a fucking lie in.

Not that Isak ever has a lie in but he likes the idea of one now, a lazy waking up with coffee and warm skin against his chest. Hugs and snuggles and laughter and sex. He hasn’t even thought about sex today with everything that has been going on, but he is kind of on a mission now as he pushes Even into the lift and presses the doors closing button in Mahdi’s face. Smiling triumphantly into Even’s mouth as he pretty much licks his face in his eagerness to get a quick kiss in.

‘’You better be naked on that bed as soon as that door closes behind us’’ Even whispers in his ear, his hands already on the bare skin under his t-shirt.

 ‘’Dude I intend to spend the next 12 hours stark naked mostly fucking your brains out.’’ Isak whispers back as he desperately slides the room key into the slot on the door, as the red light on the lock blinks angrily.

‘’Fuck’’ Even whimpers. ‘’I will just have to blow you right here in the corridor then.’’

‘’Don’t even think…’’ Isak starts but Even just silences his damn mouth with his lips as the door lock shrieks angrily behind his back.

‘’What does it say on the key?’’ Even says with his tongue still inside Isak’s mouth.

‘’Tweflty fours sleventeens’’ Isak tries to reply. He’s still a little lost. A little desperate. In need.

‘’Why are we trying to get into 2415 then baby?’’ Even laughs as he drags Isak down the hallway. ‘’And by the way we haven’t got our bags. So, no lube. No condoms. No toothbrushes.’’

‘’That’s why hotels have porters.’’ Isak snickers trying to get his lips back on Even’s but ending up with a mouth full of jaw and stubble. Not that he minds but Even leans away and allows the key to work it’s magic on the door, letting them both stumble awkwardly inside, all legs and arms and lips still touching. Little kisses being given and received in a little dance of giggles. Even blinking into the light as he lets his glasses come to rest on the top of his head, and Isak flings open the double doors leading into the master bedroom, leaning seductively on the doorframe as Even inspects the room.

 ‘’We won’t need lube anyway unless you have changed your mind about letting me finger your anal passage into a toe-curling bliss of a prostate orgasm. Tempted?’’ he offers with a wink.

‘’Let me think?’’ Even dead-pans. ‘’Fingers up my arse? Thanks, but no thanks.’’

Isak’s face is like a child sulking. Sticking his tongue out and stealing another kiss before disappearing into the vast room space.

‘’No Suite?’’ Even laughs? I don’t get my own bedroom? What kind of arrangement do you think this is Isak?’’

‘’An arrangement where you don’t need your own bedroom because your place is in my bed. You belong with me. Naked. Underneath me. With me fucking you.’’ Isak calls from the bedroom whilst a very red-faced porter is watching Even’s face in the open doorway.

‘’Sorry’’ he mouths, whilst Even starts digging in his pockets for cash. He must have a dollar bill somewhere. Fuck.

‘’Isak!!’’ he calls. Smiling apologetically at the porter. Again. He shouldn’t be allowed to do this job. I mean it’s kind of the basics. Keep a stash of dollars in your coat pocket for tips. Seriously Even.

‘’What?’’ Isak’s voice comes from behind him, followed by a ‘’Fuck.’’

‘’Mr Valtersen’s clothes will come in handy then’’ the porter laughs as he places the bags on the rack by the door. ‘’I am assuming that you don’t need me to take the bags into the bed room sir?’’ The porter is actually laughing. Trying desperately not to explode with giggles as Even is still roaming around trying to find his wallet. He never carries cash. Never carries more than his Mastercard and Visa. On top of that Isak has probably just scarred this poor man for life by displaying his naked self in front of him and now Even can’t even give him a tip to help with the brain bleach he will probably need.

‘’I’m so sorry, I have no cash. Can I take your name and leave you a tip later? I can’t apologize enough, I am a total disgrace. Thank you for taking our bags up, and please let me make it up to you.’’ Even tries his most charming smile. His most pleasant demeanour reaching his hand out to shake the poor dude’s who just laughs in his face.

‘’Man, I just saw **_The_** Isak Valtersen in the buff. Totally nude. My wife will have a coronary when I tell her. Honestly, she won’t let me go to bed tonight until I have drawn her a fucking diagram. I promise you, seeing that was worth it, no tip needed. He’s a legend that dude. Tell him I loved 'Paralell Universe'. Seriously. Awesome film.’’ He leans over to the side and shouts over Even’s shoulder. ‘’Thanks Mr V! Great show!’’ as he backs his trolley out of the doorway and gives Even a salute.

Even can still hear him laughing down the corridor, loud chuckles and howls as he closes the door and latches the chain. No more interruptions. No more naked displays in front of hotel employees. No more paps and fans and other people and fucking drama.

 

He shreds his clothes as he takes the ten or so steps over to the bedroom, flinging the doors open with a dramatic sigh, stepping out of his trousers as he takes the final leap onto the king-sized bed.

‘’I’m a fucking liability’’ Isak giggles into his chest, wriggling until he is right where Even needs him.

‘’No, you are just you. Quirky and impulsive and mine. Mine Mine Mine.’’ He whines into Isak’s mouth, another lazy kiss finding its way home.

It’s almost as all the air has been sucked out of him, how he sinks into the mattress. How they both just seem to relax, finally breathing steadily for the first time in hours.

‘’I have been looking forwards to this all day, to just have you naked in bed with me. Like this.’’ Isak whispers. ‘’I love that I can do this with you, just let you hold me without it being weird.’’

‘’Why would it be weird baby?’’ Even kisses his forehead. Little kisses. Nuzzles his nose into those coarse curls on his head, whilst his hands seem to be aimlessly roaming Isak’s body. Trying to touch every inch of him, one stroke at a time.

‘’Some people don’t like it. I love just being snuggly. Well I tell a lie, I did this film with Henrique, you know the Brazilian actor? The one with the Elvis hair? He’s a hoot, really funny guy. Has a girlfriend too, she’s really cool by the way, but anyway. He has this cuddle kink thing going on, and at the end of every shoot we used to go to his trailer and lie in his bunk and cuddle until we came down from all the adrenaline of the day. It was the best couple of months work I have ever done. I actually cried on the last day when the trailer was taken away. We still text a lot and he sends me all these funny little videos of him when he’s working. ‘’

‘’Henrique Holmez?’’ Even arches an eyebrow. ‘’You cuddled with ‘’The Holmez’’ ? Fuck. Now I’m jealous.’’ Even laughs and Isak places a soft kiss on his lips. ‘’No need to be jel Even, Holmez is getting married and I think his lady is keeping him in credit with the cuddles these days. It was just cuddles and a really cool friendship. Nothing more’’.

‘’Nothing more’’ Even mutters into Isak’s cheek, snuggling even closer to him. Not that he can get any closer. Not really. They are pretty much plastered to eachother's fronts, skin against skin, Isak’s head under Even’s chin. Hands in each other’s hair. Breaths on each others skin.

‘’Isak?’’ Even whispers. He doesn’t really know what he wants to ask. What he needs more than this.

There’s only soft snores coming from the man in his embrace. Quiet breaths of a content-ness and peace.

And for once Even falls asleep feeling exactly like that.


	14. FOURTEEN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahem. Smut alert.

FOURTEEN

That subconscious space between being awake and being asleep has always been Even’s favourite place. Where he can quite happily drift back to sleep or just slowly slowly have a little conversation with his body about whether to brave the day and actually wake up.

Right now, his body is already wide awake, even though his brain is still catching up. Because not only is he on top of the covers with his body splayed out like a starfish, but there is also something licking his cock. Nice warm licks. Slowly moving up and down. And up. Because Even is definitely up. Up up up. Hard as a bloody rock. And that, that right there, is Isak Valtersen’s incredibly talented mouth.

He would recognize that tongue with his eyes bound, in the dark. Anywhere. The soft flicks across his slit. The firm movements down his length and the swift flick of a wrist and that damn mouth is back at the start with Even’s hips jerking with need.

And Isak is humming. Flicking the lid of a bottle of lube letting his slick fingers pump the base of Even’s very awake cock whilst his mouth is humming around the head, licking precome, because even in his sleep Even seems to leak. It’s just him. He gets horny and hard and more often or not wakes up with damp patches. Not that it matters because he is now arching back on the bed and whimpering whilst Isak’s giggles are bouncing of the walls in the far too big bedroom.

‘’You’re a menace’’ Even whimpers.

‘’Admit it, you love it’’ Isak laughs back, then diving straight down to make sweet-tongue-love to Even’s cock. Or whatever it may be called. Fuck. Even loves it whatever it is. Hot sucking sounds and Isak’s hair tickling his stomach and there is a hand pumping his cock in rhythm with that mouth and it’s just so good. So So good.

‘’MMMM don’t stop’’ Even blurts out as his legs jerk and twist underneath the weight of Isak’s body, shifting slightly as Isak seems to effortlessly throw Even’s leg over his shoulder.

‘’Give’s me a better angle’’ He mutters down below, whilst still working his magic tongue over Even’s slit, and Even can only moan as there is more lube being drizzled over his already over heated skin.

He’s good, Isak. Definitely knows what he is doing. Oh God.

There’s tongue. Warm laps of tongue on his skin rhythmically working alongside that damn hand. Soft movement of fingers between his arsecheeks.   


Even means to protest. He means to remind Isak that that is kind of a no-go zone. Not that he can get much sense out of his mouth because Isak has just swallowed his cock back down and Even couldn’t even form a sensible word if he tried. Just soft moans and whimpers and his damn legs that won’t keep still and Isak’s fingers are still there. Just softly stroking over his skin, bouncing effortlessly over the folds of skin around his opening.

He wouldn’t. He trusts Isak. And Isak wouldn’t hurt him . He never would.

‘’Do you trust me?’’ Isak whispers as his tongue trails up his inside leg, leaving a trail of spit in its wake. It’s cold against the faint breeze from the air-conditioning, making his body shiver whilst he nods his head.

‘’You have to say it Even. I won’t do anything you don’t want but I really want to make you feel amazing. I want to make you feel so good that you will never even look at anyone else. Please.’’

Isak buries his head back in Even’s groin. That came out wrong. He didn’t mean to say it like that, because he’s kind of not managed to keep anyone until now. However good he is at eating another dudes arse and making them see stars as he fingers them into earthshattering orgasm after orgasm.

‘’I trust you’’ Even whimpers. Isak’s tongue lapping over his balls. Soft licks on his perineum. Teasing. Asking for permission.

‘’You need to say it baby. Tell me what to do. Tell me what you want me to do sweetheart.’’ Isak’s voice is barely there, as he lets the tip of his tongue just nudge the rim. Smell the muskiness of the folds between Even’s cheeks. The tender skin that holds so many ways to please. All the little nerve endings just waiting for Isak’s fingers to fire them up. His tongue to tease them into submission. Play them all like a puppet master holding all the strings until the final crescendo.

‘’Make me come’’ Even pants. It’s not the most romantic things. It’s definitely not Even’s finest hour with the dirty talk he could churn out if it wasn’t for Isak’s tongue down there. The hot breath ghosting over his hole. Maybe Isak is right. Because Isak is fucking magic and if he says he will make Even come like a train seeing stars then who Is Even to argue? Especially when Isak is so expertly pumping his cock and blowing little hot breaths on his balls and fuck. Uh. Ugh.

He never liked being touched there. Right there. But Isak’s finger is soft and slick with lube. His lips kissing little marks on his skin. Wet tongue toying with the rim of his opening and he can’t stop clenching. Clenching and releasing and clenching and arching and his legs are fucking kicking all over the place again. Involuntary spasms with the assault on all his bits below. Because Isak is multitasking like a bloody pro down there, almost overwhelming every sense in Even. His cock spilling precome like a faulty tap whilst he is angling his arse up against Isak’s mouth. Begging. Silently begging for Isak just to take control.

Don’t make me beg, he screams inside. Just own it  Fucking own me. I don’t care anymore.

He doesn’t even tense up when the first finger slides inside him. Not after all the times that damn tongue if Isak’s has already poked at his hole. Alternating with kissing, blowing and jabbing at him until he is sweating and panting and blabbering and there are things coming out of Even’s mouth he won’t admit to saying. Not ever. Honestly. ‘’Eat my arse before I lose my shit’’ Is kind of not even in Even’s vocabulary. Well it didn’t use to be before Isak Valtersen came along and made himself a snug little home between Even’s legs and started doing unspeakably ridiculous things to him.

Because there are now two fingers up Even’s arse and he is not even embarrassed at the fact that he is humping Isak’s fingers. Quite happily and enthusiastically whilst Isak is going in for the final kill, edging his knuckles just that bit deeper, whilst giving another little taste of the back of his throat to Even’s cock that is just begging. Weeping and twitching with need inside Isak’s mouth as Even kind of loses his shit.

It happens a lot these days, that Even loses his shit. Totally. Seriously. But Isak promised stars and Even is lost in a fucking galaxy, his body twisting and arching and his mouth shouting out words that he has no intention of ever admitting to saying. Lots of more and more and again and fucking love you and please fuck me or I might just die.

And Isak just smiles as he lets even’s cock go with a soft little pop. Works his fingers a little faster as he grabs his own neglected cock that is straining against the sheets. Because it’s much more fun coming together he thinks as he goes in for the grand finale. Flicking his tongue around the head before swallowing Even’s gorgeous cock all the way down his throat with a content hum and a couple of swift tugs at his cock before he has to let go.

Because the orgasm takes him away from the world as he knows it. The frantic shouts coming from Even’s mouth egging him on to the point that it’s almost painful when his body just releases. Whilst Even almost twists over on his front with the spasms of his own orgasm, his cock is shooting stripes of come over the other side of the bed with Isak’s fingers still up his arse, erratically moving out of habit rather than precision. And Isak still coming, his arms shaking with the effort of trying to hold himself up.

It’s earthshattering.

It’s bloody messy. There are so many wet spots of come over the bed that there is honestly no way they will find a dry bit go lay in.

‘’You Ok?’’ Isak pants. His head falling back to rest on the back of Even’s thigh. Even who is now on his front whimpering into the pillow and kind of slow humping the bed whilst Isak’s fingers slide out of him.

There is no reply. Just all that heavy breathing. Isak can’t help smiling. It’s good. He knows how good it can be. There is nothing like making someone feel like that, totally spent. Like they have shot every last sperm in their body forever and ever amen. Empty. Totally Spent.

It’s an effort but he still does it. Crawls up and spoons him. Face into neck. His chest against the sweaty skin on Even’s back. Fingers lacing with the firm grip of Even’s hand.

‘’You didn’t lie. ‘’ Even whispers.

‘’I never do’’ Isak smiles into his neck. ‘’I’m the master of prostate play. Told you.’’

He can feel Even’s smile crack against his cheek. The soft giggle that he does so well. The sounds that makes Isak all syrupy inside. Like his insides just turn to mush.

‘’You haven’t met my fingers baby. There are things they can do that men have written sonnets about. Trust me.’’ Even’s whole body is convulsing with held back laughter as Isak drools into his shoulder blade.

‘’Sonnets’’ Isak gushes out as actual tears are running down his face. ‘’You are such a dork’’

‘’Well if Taylor Swift wrote songs about your bedroom antics then I’m sure there have been at least poetry written about my skills with cocks. ‘’ Even looks serious as well. For about a second and a half until Isak kisses him into submission.

‘’What do you say we order breakfast, then I will let you demonstrate some of those skills. ‘’ Isak teases as Even turns on to his back. Just lies there and let’s his eyes drink in the gorgeous man laughing next to him in the bed.

‘’You make me happy Isak’’ He whispers, letting his finger stroke Isak’s cheek.

‘’You too.’’ Isak smiles back. ‘’You make me feel like everything is OK.’’


	15. FIFTEEN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for all the comments and kudos! I am well underway of completing the ''one chapter per day'' thing this week, but bear with me as I am all over the place! All the love and hope everyone is having a lovely relaxing Easter week!

The room reeks of sex. There is no doubt about it, despite the maid having been up and changed the sheets whilst Even cringed hiding behind the iPad on the sofa and Isak just sat there with a cheesy content smile on his face.

He looks a little bit less content now pacing up and down the room waiting for Sana Bakkoush to arrive.

 

Sana Bakkoush. One of the most feared names in the industry. Top dollar agent and management consultant who only takes on a few exclusive clients and plays hardball with the rest of Hollywood.

 

In real life she is nothing like what Even imagined. Not that he thinks he has actually ever seen a picture of her, or even heard of someone who had met her for real. Not just hearsay and party gossip and bullshit. No real meetings. Negotiations and deals. Real meetings where papers are signed and fates are sealed.

 

She’s a surprising woman as she sweeps into the room with an assistant in tow, another stunningly beautiful woman in the same elaborate hijab as Ms Bakkoush is wearing.

‘’Næsheim’’ she says sternly and kisses his cheek. ‘’We finally meet. Isak here says you are worthy of a raise for handling the last couple of days bullshit, but that is what you are paid to do anyway babes. So, suck it up.’’ She pats him gently on the shoulder with a laugh and folds Isak into a hug, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek.

‘’You OK darling boy?’’ she ruffles his hair and lets her manicured finger trail under his chin. ‘’Let’s go play hardball with these suckers, shall we?’’

‘’Whatever you say Mum’’ Isak laughs back. ‘’You will have it all figured out, won’t you? He laughs as she sits down at the table, gesturing to her colleague who hands her a laptop, ready and plugged in, the screen already flashing with incoming messages.

‘’Of course. Which is why you pay me and Jamila here the big bucks. We are going to let this thing turn into something good baby. For all of us. First though,  where’s my tea Jonas?’’

‘’Hello Sana’’ Jonas laughs and the hugging and kissing starts all over again along with a swift call to room service for coffee and green tea before they all finally sit down.

‘’First’’ Sana says and sighs into her screen. ‘’Emma’’. We are not letting someone who is obviously in a fragile state take any blame for that little outburst. I have prepared a statement saying you adore her and have ensured she is safe with her family whilst she recovers from her exhaustion. Emma’s team are wanting to pull a lost pregnancy thing to smooth over her erratic behaviour but I have totally pulled the plug on that little stunt. We are not getting involved with that, it’s not only unethical but completely wrong to add that to Emma’s worries right now. ‘’ Sana looks up at Isak who nods.

‘’Have you got Emma’s private number? I’d like to text her and just say that it’s fine. That she did nothing bad and I wish her all the best or something. ‘’ Isak looks genuinely concerned and if Even didn’t already know how much he loves this ridiculous boy next to him, he knows it now as his heart is beating out of his chest. The urge to reach out and hug him overwhelming.

 

Sana nods at Jamila who seconds later nods at Isak’s phone beeping with an incoming message. ‘’Done’’ She says with a smile.

 

‘’Secondly, Oprah rang me personally this morning to ask for an emergency taping this afternoon, where she will handle your big coming out moment. I told her to go fuck herself. ‘’

The laughter around the room is liberating, and Sana takes a deep breath before continuing.

‘’You are doing nothing of the sorts. You wanted to come out eventually anyway and there are enough rumours to warrant a little seeding from our camp. So, let’s just do this the right way. There is no way I am having you jump on some fucking talk show sofa over a simple thing like being in love. Not happening babes. Instead you are just going to take this completely chill. Research shows that an actor that is publicly labelling as Bi will work more than an actor that is out as Gay, but I think people need to learn to take a chill pill and grow the hell up. The problem is you have had girlfriends in public, and that could be problematic for the public if you lie about it. So, would you have a problem with just choosing not to label yourself? If we come up with a spiel where you just laugh at the questions and say that who you love should not be important to anyone else but yourself? Isak?’’

‘’I don’t give a fuck what they call me to be honest, but I’m ok with that. But I want to be able to be with Even in public. Take him as my date to events and kind of be a couple. I always wanted that, if we can go with that eventually.’’ Isak is chewing his fingernail again, and now Even seriously needs to hug him. Even though they are in a proper meeting and it would be completely inappropriate. Instead he sits nervously on his own hands and his legs just won’t stop moving under the table.

‘’Let me just slowly seed him into your life. Get a few pap shots with Even here in the background. Feed your fan accounts little snippets and get his name out there. Maybe do something with the glasses. Are you sponsored with your eyewear Even? No?’’ Sana just nods to Jamila who seems to be tapping away on her iPad faster than Sana is typing.

‘’Social Media, Even, I will send you prompts to update Isak’s accounts. Please abide by what I say until this is all going well, because there will be sponsors who will probably pull out and others who will be more than happy to sprinkle Isak with rainbows and glitter until the cows come home. And by the way Eskild is changing your entire wardrobe for LA, he will fly out to oversee you there, instead of coming here. You will be fine with what he has planned for you here, the labels are all on board, I checked this morning, and Eskild knows his shit. Honestly. Trust him babes.’’

‘’Are we still on schedule for today then? Schistad and Isak on Oprah talking about the film and film only, Then the Chicago International film festival starts on Friday, with Q&A and red carpet. No changes?’’ Jonas is flicking through his paperwork and his phone is buzzing like a firefly even though it’s on silent.

‘’A few small adjustments, Jamila will insert them in your schedule. Requests for interviews at the festival have doubled, but we need to not overshadow Schistad or his team will go nuts, and if I have to have another argument with Magnusson this week I will indeed need to go nuts over something. Inshallah. Seriously. I know his wife and she has the patience of a saint. Moving on.’’

Sana takes a deep breath and stares at Isak.

‘’Speak babes.’’

‘’I’m fine Sana. Seriously. Let’s just finish this tour and let me have a few weeks break and then we go straight into filming ‘’Country of Lies’’. ‘’

‘’Bullshit. We can push ‘’Country’’ for a later start if you need time. Seriously. I know Del Toro, and he’s a real softie. ‘’ She cocks her head and moves her gaze.

‘’Næsheim. You ok with all this? I take it Jonas has filled you in on the contracts you need to sign?’’

‘’Enhanced Non-Disclosure and asset protection I assume’’ Even almost whispers. Because it’s kind of embarrassing to have to talk about this in front of Isak. Almost like they are kids and can’t be trusted.

‘’I’ll sort it out with you’’ Jamila says softly and smiles at Even. Then taps furiously on her screen whilst Even’s phone lights up like a Christmas tree with her messages. Documents and emails and file transfers and new twitter log in details for his own verified Twitter account. Which makes him arch an eyebrow at her and makes her burst out laughing.

‘’Dude, you will have like a million followers in a day when this breaks, so I would kill of any old unprotected social media unless you want embarrassing pictures plastered all over the press. You know how this works, and I am happy to clean up your accounts for you if you just hand over the passwords. I’m fast. And thorough. ‘’ Jamila just stares at him whilst Sana just nods and mouths ‘’Do it’’.

And Even does, because you kind of don’t argue with these two. Even Jonas is nodding like a freaking puppy and cocking his head like he is trying to tell Even not to even argue. Well If Isak trusts these two then he supposes he does as well. Not that there is anything incriminating on his work verified Instagram or his old twitter for that matter. But his FaceBook probably needs an overhaul. There’s probably people on there who shouldn’t be around him right now. People with grudges and stories to tell. Because Even has a few of them himself. Not that he would ever kiss and tell, but he has made some disastrous life choices. Fucked around with the wrong people. And he surely doesn’t need them to come crawling out of the woodwork telling stories of drunken disasters from years ago.

‘’Hang on boys, Oprah is calling again. Shall I put her on hold?’’ Sana giggles, and punches the red circle on her screen with a smile. ‘’Let’s keep her on her toes. Threaten to cancel. I love this shit, being all in demand for the wrong reasons. Fun times. Oh! Look Missed call from Ellen. I’ll add that to the waiting list. Are you willing to do the James Corden Late Late Show in LA by the way? Could be fun. At least you won’t be asked to come out on there. He loves you, it would be pretty safe. ‘’

‘’I can do that.’’ Isak laughs. ‘’Now was there anything else You needed to discuss or can I go back to bed with my boyfriend? Also, I need to eat. Fucking starving. ‘’ Isak is whimpering like a kid in distress and Sana just waves her hand at Jamila who picks up her phone with a smile.

‘’I’m taking you to lunch Ize.’’ Sana waves her pen around the table.’’ All you horrible lot. We have reservations at the Skyline club and Hamil in the kitchen there knows what I like. Grilled Halal lamb cutlets on a bed of rocket with chimichurri sauce coming up, and then Isak, you are due for a phone in with Bruno Barreto from Soul BrazIl at 6, so please be at least sober for that. ‘’

‘’Chill Sana’’ Jonas laughs. ‘’We’ve got it from here.’’

‘’Even, 10 minutes with me now’’ Jamila waves the paperwork in her hand and Even presses a kiss to Isak’s head.

‘’You OK?’’ He whispers.

‘’As long as you stay, I will be’’ Isak smiles back.

‘’I’ll stay. You couldn’t make me leave if you tried.’’


	16. SIXTEEN

 

 

The Oprah show is a fucking circus.

 

Not that Even expected anything else but for once he doesn’t envy Jonas who has spent the last hour shouting down the phone, whilst Magnusson is looking like he is about to pop a blood vessel in his forehead, and Isak is just laughing whilst Linn is sitting on his lap trying to pluck the nose-hairs out of Isak’s nostrils. Because you can’t risk being hairy on TV. It’s not like someone is paid to sit and edit out your petty flaws before this bloody show is due to air.

 

Well Even has spoken to Eskild about 30 times in the last half hour, and almost cried with annoyance at the pettiness of the bloody production styling team. Because even though Eskild has been incredibly thorough and sent ahead photos and descriptions of the items of clothing Isak Valtersen would be wearing for the taping, the twatfaced idiot in charge of Ms Winfrey has now decided that Isak’s shirt will clash with Ms Winfrey’s silk blouse, and apparently that is not going to happen. In any shape or form. And as Eskild so eloquently put it, this is fucking Chicago. Practically outer space when it comes to having designers just whiz up custom made shirts for random film stars in need of a shirt in a different colour.

Even has even offered his own T-shirt, but apparently a vintage washed out Metallica Tour tee from 1989 is not the kind of thing Isak Valtersen is supposed to be seen in, especially since he has an exclusive contract with Harris Reed to supply all his ensembles for this tour. And whilst he does have a different shirt waiting for him in LA, the one he used in New York is green and just won’t go with the purple velvet trousers he is wearing. It’s a stupid mess of pettiness and it’s doing Even’s head in. Seriously. There are starving kids in Africa who don’t own fucking clothes yet this woman is standing here demanding that Even just magic’s up a brand-new shirt for Isak. Who is apparently a weird size and needs custom made shirts. Well fuck that.

‘’Are you by any chance the same size as Schistad?’’ Even tries to ask Isak. Discreetly. Because Even should be able to handle this, and Eskild is kind of out of ideas even though he has people from 5 different local designers heading to the studios under threat of never working in this industry again unless they get Isak kitted out. And Harris Reed himself is apparently never speaking to Eskild again. Well, not today. Because Harris loves Eskild. Really. All according to Eskild who has never used so many swearwords in one phone call as the one Even has just hung up on. It’s just a shirt. Seriously.

‘’I’m not wearing one of his shirts. And anyway, he wears Thomas Heyes exclusively. No exceptions, and we can’t cross brand or people start misplacing their sanity. Ouch Linn you arsehole, you are fucking killing my nose. There can’t be a single hair left in there. Auch!’’

‘’Fucking baby’’ Linn mutters and jumps off Isak’s lap. ‘’Suit yourself, don’t blame me if you look like a bloody Neanderthal all over American TV tomorrow. ‘’

 

Isak sticks his tongue out and Linn pulls at his hair and Even takes a moment to down another dose of migraine pills. It’s a little bit much. Just a bit frustrating.

 

He must remember to thank Sana. And Jamila. Because apparently when Sana Bakkoush asks, Sana Bakkoush gets. Which is why a box of 20 custom made prescription protective dark glasses were delivered from Cult Eyewear USA this morning, with a stern reminder form Sana that he was now under contract and would incur heavy fines if he was seen wearing anything but the Cult Brand in public. That text was then followed by several shipping codes from Jamila as he is apparently now also under contract with Adidas for tracksuits, and Vetements Clothing for his leisure wear, and LT Walk for shoes, as the brand they are building around him requires a more laid-back style than his current dark jeans and washed out tees.

Even Eskild had clapped his hands in delight over the Skype airways when Linn had expertly measured him up to Eskild’s exact requirements, as Eskild is now his personal stylist and will coordinate his clothing choices to match and compliment Isak.

Which to be honest Even doesn’t mind that much, because most days Even looks like he has no idea what he is doing, wearing the same pieces of well-loved clothing until they basically fall apart. It’s not that he really cares what he wears, and if it makes Isak’s life easier he will happily wear whatever Eskild decides. Although he had put his veto in for glitter, sequins and anything made out of velvet. He just can’t bear that shit.

 

‘’Mr Neeslem’’

That’s another one from the production team. Some smarmy woman with a fake smile.

‘’Mr Bech Næsheim’’ Even sighs. He might just change his name. Call himself Smith or something that people at least know how to use properly.

‘’Yes’’ The lady almost rolls her eyes. ‘’Is there any chance we can change the wording of the fourth question. The one where Ms Winfrey asks the actors experience with preparing for the role. We would like to add the wording, ‘’As straight men’’ to the start.

‘’Why would you want to add that?’’ Even almost sighs back. I mean. Seriously.

‘’The audience likes to establish facts at the start of an in-depth interview like this. They will feel more comfortable knowing where the actors stand. ‘’

‘’No. Any changes will have to be approved by Ms Bakkoush. Please don’t change anything without her approval.’’ Even uses his best authoritative voice. Honestly. ‘’And anyway Madam, you must be fully aware of the contract for both Mr Valtersen and Mr Schistad. Please do not ask any personal questions that have not been previously approved by Ms Bakkoush or Mr Magnusson. You are aware, I hope, of the implication that Mr Valtersen will walk away from this interview if this is not adhered to.''

Mr Valtersen is probably bound to do nothing of the sort but Even is good at bullshitting and the woman swans off with her bloody clipboard and iPad and headset muttering angrily. They won’t pin any shit on him. And Isak would probably laugh it off anyway, like he usually does when he is in interview mode.

Which he is now as he stands bare-chested in the green room getting his microphone set attached to his trousers and there is a red faced older gentleman with pins in his mouth waiting to seemingly attach some sort of shirt to Isak’s back. The shirt is yellow. And the production stylist gives him a thumb up from the doorway as Chris Schistad stands up and promptly spills the dregs of his coffee over himself.

Magnusson will probably have a stroke. Not that it is Even’s problem, because Isak now looks like a bloody Easter chick with the purple trousers and yellow shirt that the gentleman is effortlessly pinning in, tucking strands of fabric between his fingers as Isak holds his arms up in defeat.

Even now has to go and ring Eskild and explain the state of Isak’s clothes.

It’s a mess. A bloody circus.

Magnusson and Jonas are both holding their breaths as the welcome spiel dies down, and Isak and Chris take to the sofa. The audience are on the edge of their seats as the trailer plays on the monitors and Isak has his most charming smile on as the first question gets fired at him.

Even keeps forgetting that this isn’t Isak’s first gig. That he is actually pretty much a veteran on the film promotion tour circuit, and handles the bullshit with ease, whilst Chris does the flirting, the easy smiles at the audience and the clear innuendos that Isak just rolls with, batting them back at Chris like they are the best of friends. It’s all show. A well-rehearsed script, a performance of unity played out with perfection. Even Even can see it. The subtle darkness in Isak’s eyes when Chris says something that is clearly a dig at Isak. And Isak shoots back making Magnusson hitch his breath next to Even.

It’s not until the very end, after a few retakes, a repeat of a segment where a hysterical fan screamed out mid question, and the final wrap question where Chris does his well-practiced spiel on how this is not a gay movie, this is a story of love. Of the destructible shattering trauma that bound two lost souls together in a place where they found peace. He does it well, looking completely sincere as he lays his hand on Isak’s arm, and gazes adorably at the man next to him in that damn yellow shirt. It’s making Even feel quite nauseous just watching it.

Because he sees Twitter. He knows what Isak’s fans are like and the ‘Chrisak’-shipping is rife. This isn’t helping. This will spout more fanfiction than Even thinks he can handle within an hour of airing. Because Isak is smiling and rubbing Chris’ leg and the ‘’undeniable attraction and chemistry’’ are words that will be thrown around in the blurb before the airing.

It’s definitely not Ms Winfrey’s first walk in the park either as she leans in and grabs Isak’s hand. Cocks her head and asks innocently ‘’And is that something that you have found Isak? Peace?’’

Jonas swears and turns around. He can’t watch. Not that he doesn’t trust Isak but throwing a loaded question like that straight at him is bound to wind him up. Bound for the little devil in him to crawl out, all smiling and chuckling, playing with fire.

‘’Oprah, I think that is why this film has been so important to me, because portraying Adam in this film, a young man who didn’t think he was worthy of being loved, taught me some valuable life lessons. I’m only human, like we all are, looking for that person that will bring us peace. The person who will complete the puzzle of your emotions. Make you whole in a way. It may sound cliched but I found a lot of myself in Adam, the part of him that realized that it’s OK to need someone else. That it is great to let a part of yourself go and let someone else look after your heart. And you asked if I have found peace? I don’t know, but I have found myself loved. And I have found myself loving someone back. It’s new and it’s exciting, but it is more right than anything I have ever experienced in my life. So, if that counts as having found peace, then maybe I am at peace. I am happy and I am loving my life, and the people who I am lucky enough to have in it.‘’

The crowd cheer politely and Oprah wipes an imaginary tear from her eye as she turns to Chris who just grins and chokes out ‘’My wife is my peace, and I love her more today than the day I married her. ‘’ whilst his cheeks flush adorably pink and the blonde assistant behind Even snorts.

Isak just does his ‘’God I am a fucking doll, just look at me’’ spiel, air- kissing and waving and blowing kisses to some random women in the audience, taking the time to do a few high fives and hugs before Magnus pretty much carries him off the floor.

It’s not until they are back in the van, when Isak is almost on Even’s lap, whilst people are banging on the windows and screaming his name, that Isak breathes out. Lets his body relax and his face hide in Even’s neck.

‘’It’s you by the way.’’ He whispers. ‘’Who I was talking about. You are the one I am loving. Just so you know.’’

‘’Good Job everyone’’ Jonas shouts from the front. ‘’Great work Ize, you handled that awesomely. If you ever want to go into politics I am more than happy to be your right-hand man. ‘’ he laughs as Isak snuggles into Even’s arms, Linn snickers in the back and Magnus is already loudly discussing school choices with his wife over the phone, whist Mahdi seems to have fallen asleep.

And Even wipes a tear from under his glasses, for once grateful for the dark lenses covering his eyes. Because he loves him right back, the adorable little shit that has given him his heart. And Even has gifted him his own right back, ripped it out and given it away to never be returned he hopes as Isak sighs into his chest.

‘’Can we go home and cuddle now?’’ he whispers to Isak’s hair.

‘’Just you and me, in bed. Nothing else.’’ Isak whispers back.

‘’Perfect’’ Even smiles. ‘’You are all I need. Just you.’’

‘’I’m yours.’’ Isak mumbles, wrapping his arms tighter around Even’s chest. ‘’Always.’’

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a little bit inspired by Christiane Armanpour (who is an extremley experienced journalist) being a twat to Armie and Timothee when interviewing them, repeatedly adding ''As straight men'' to every f-ing question. Seriously woman. You have no idea do you.
> 
> Also f y i Harris Reed is an American design student currently studying in London who was plucked out of nowhere to design tour suits for Harry Styles. Talk about landing on your feet. Follow him on insta for a glimpse into his crash landing into design fame.


	17. SEVENTEEN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is method in my madness people. I think. Maybe. I am so thrilled that you are enjoying this little venture and thank you again for all the comments and kudos. I am notoriously bad at responding, but at least I am keeping my promise of a chapter per day. All the love, always xxxx

 

Even looks terrified.

It’s just a papwalk. A pre-set deal between Sana and an agency paparazzi who will take some unguarded photos of Isak walking down the street pretending he doesn’t know he is being photographed, whilst the photographer pretends she has just come across Isak. In the street. Just like that.

Isak has actually worked with Tabitha before, and he has no doubt she will deliver exactly what Sana has asked for. Friendly yet intimate shots. Little gestures that can easily be taken for affection, but subtle enough that you would never really know. Seeding is a precise art in the industry, giving a little then taking it back, playing tricks on the public to slowly and discreetly introduce an idea. A small change in the brand. A relationship for promotion. OR like in Isak’s case, making the truth known without saying a single word.

To be honest Isak likes this. He has always hated having to talk about the real Isak. Because the real person behind the skin is kind of simple. A little bit weird. Insecure yet cocky.

Now he has a chance to actually steer his own life on track, being more himself than the plastic Isak Valtersen he has always portrayed. With Even. As long as Even doesn’t get scared away by all this shite that comes along with the job of being Isak.

‘’Sorry about all this. I know this isn’t the gig you signed up for.’’ Isak mutters as Jonas text comes through on Even’s phone. Tabitha is in position, lens ready to go. And Isak and Even have to walk two blocks, down, stop and look in the Rolex shop window (since The Chicago International Film Festival is sponsored by Rolex and Sana owed them a favour) as well as pretend there is something in Even’s eye, so Isak can adjust his glasses, drawing attention to the CULT logo on the side. They have had the instructions. It’s easy. And it’s not like anyone will recognize Isak with his new beanie over his head, the dark glasses (sponsored by Holzveiler) or the custom Harris Reed coat he has casually slung over his shoulders. He looks good. Stylish. Whilst Even looks nothing like Even in his tracksuit and boots. No wonder he looks like he is going in front of a firing squad rather than Tabitha and her zoom lens.

‘’Tabitha is a cool chick. She studies cinematography at Ohio state, at half speed, and the rest of the time she travels papping to pay her way through school. She has a good eye and will make you look decent. I promise, if you look like a dork or have lettuce between your teeth, she won’t sell the pic, because she has a reputation to protect too. Classy shots are her thing and you and I just have to do the walk. Just remember to completely ignore her on the other side of the road. Don’t even look her way. OK baby?’’

Even tries to nod, but instead bangs his head on the doorframe exiting the van and Mahdi just rolls his eyes.

‘’Magnus is two blocks down, and I will be hanging back behind you. Jonas is on the other side of the street. Just roll with it guys. ‘’ Mahdi sighs and put his own shades on. (cast offs from Isak’s last sponsorship run with Ray-Ban)

‘’I love you’’ Isak mouths and pushes his glasses up his nose. ‘’Now let’s go do this thing. You ready to come out to the world as my boyfriend?’’ He laughs and scrunches his nose up at the sunlight streaming from between the buildings.

‘’I’m terrified’’ Even shrugs. At least his glasses are working, and to be honest having proper polarized glass with prescription glass has made a massive difference to the grittiness of his eyes. They don’t feel so tired. And his head less worn out.

‘’Let’s roll. 5 minutes of this and we will be back in the car. Then I will take you to Millennium park and show you the Cloud Gate, you know that giant silver bean thing? I always wanted to get a selfie there, and we can post it on my Insta. As long as Sana agrees. You and me. Our first official Selfie. Even though you are still officially just my babysitter. Slash assistant. Slash boyfriend……’’ Even has to really restrain himself not to just lean in and smash his mouth on Isak’s. Honestly. Because the boy is so damn excited and adorable and Even still can’t grasp how he got this lucky. How this mess of a man is his. His to hold and love and sleep curled up against at night.

Because the cuddles are awesome. I mean the sex. Phew. Talk about mind blown.  Even must not think of sex. Seriously. Because the damn tracksuit trousers he is in are stretchy and unforgiving and selling pictures of himself walking down the street in the sunshine sporting a giant boner is not going to endear him to Sana.

But the fact still remains that him, the eternal Even ‘’Top’’ Bech Næsheim, is a bottom. Totally. He would let Isak finger him into orgasm any time. Just like he did last night before Even passed out in a pool of his own come. Wriggling around in it to the point that he woke up literally stuck to the posh hotel sheets with Isak drooling into his back. He will just have to ask for it now. Swallow his pride and shame and simply tell Isak that he wants him to fuck him. Because the whole bottom thing has always been something Even has been too scared to admit he thinks he could fix. That just because you had one bad experience doesn’t mean that it couldn’t be good with someone else. Someone who knows what he is doing, and Even has no doubt in his mind that Isak knows what he is doing. Fuck he has even learned a thing or two. And his cock is kind of jumping for joy in his pants.

‘’I can’t stop thinking about sex’’ He whispers to Isak as they stop in front of Rolex and Isak enthusiastically points at the watches, pretending to show Even whatever is in the window.

‘’I think of sex all the time’’ Isak smiles. ‘’I can’t help it with you and your cock around.’’

‘’Idiot’’ Even mutters, looking down. He needs to get this semi down. Seriously.

‘’Is that a boner in your pants or are you just happy to see me?’’ Isak deadpans whilst pretending to read the sign in the window next to a particularly grotesque watch, full of rhinestones and weird dials.

‘’Talk to me about something unsexy. Please. No talk of cocks and sex OK?’’ Even pants, rolling on his heels

‘’So, what is a safe topic?’’ Isak lifts his glasses, peaking at Even with a little concern. ‘’Apart from fleshlights, lube, dildos, prostate play, fingering, fisting, porn and the fact that I still want to fuck you? Even though you won’t let me, and that’s OK.’’

He looks so innocent and Even doesn’t know whether to bang his head against the display window or kiss the dude. I mean.

‘’Isak’’ He pleads. Whilst Isak is just throwing his head back in laughter.

‘’Baby’’ Isak singsongs and reaches out to adjust Even’s glasses. Holding them up and polishing an invisible stain on the glass, at the right angle so the logo is clearly visible to the other side of the street.

‘’Check your phone’’ Isak whispers, pushing them back up on Even’s nose with a grin.

There is a thumbs up from Jonas. Meaning Tabitha got the shot.

‘’One more block, then back in the car.’’

‘’I kind of like being out for a walk with you.’’ Even smiles. He does. This almost feels normal.

‘’You mean a walk out with Me and Mahdi and Magnus and Jonas and A paparazzi and Linn waiting in the car? Very cosy.’’ Isak laughs.

‘’Are you Isak Valtersen?’’ Someone is holding onto Isak’s arm, and for a minute Even freezes. Because there is nowhere near enough security to look after Isak if there is going to be a crazy fan thing happen here on the pavement.

But Isak is Chill. Because that is who he is. Mr Chill. Leaning into the guy’s camera and being all smiley in the selfie, and quite happily signing the guys backpack.

‘’Can you sign my arm? I’m going to have it tattooed on later. Oh my god I love you Isak. ‘’IBIZA’’ is my favourite movie of all times. Oh my god. Can you write ‘’You are my sin’’ on my arm? Please. That would be so cool. Right here.’’

‘’What does that mean?’’ Even has to ask. Because it’s just a little bit sweet, the hysteria in the young woman holding her arm out whilst a few other people have stopped and Magnus is tapping Isak on the shoulder to say he is in position whilst the car is behind them and Mahdi seems to be everywhere.

‘’Oh my god, it’s the line that Pierre says to Adeline in ‘’IBIZA’’, when he realizes that he is going to lose her forever to the Grandiosa Squad. It’s so romantic.’’ The girl is almost in tears as Isak is struggling with the cheap ball point pen, trying out his best handwriting on her skin.

‘’Du er synden min’’ Isak smiles in Norwegian. Spelling it out in his native tongue on the girl’s arm whilst she sobs with the emotions of it all. Whilst Even is trying to figure it all out. I mean last time he was in Norway ‘Grandiosa’ was a frozen Pizza and here Isak is making people cry over some film Even hasn’t even heard about.

‘’We’re good’’ Jonas hand is firm on Even’s shoulder as they get pushed into the car and Isak waves enthusiastically whilst the girl is sobbing and people are taking photos and things are just a little crazy.

‘’Will she really have that tattooed on her later?’’ Even asks. I mean it wouldn’t surprise him. People do all kinds of things.

‘’Check twitter later, hashtag me and tattoos, and you will see all the things I have written on people’s skin. This girl in Japan has my thumb print on her boob. There is a dude in France with my lips tattooed on his neck. I didn’t actually kiss him but it’s definitely my mouth. Then there are all kinds of movie quotes and autographs and shit. Jonas did Tabitha get her shots?’’

‘’They were good. She is sending them through to Sana for approval after lunch and they should hit the press by this evening. It was good to see her. She says hi. ‘’ Jonas is back on his phone, and they are shooting back up towards the Hancock building where Isak is due for a photo shoot with Arielle Merlo for the Chicago Tribune, and then another radio thing.

When all Even really wants to do is to go and see that bean thing and take a selfie. Because that would be nice. Just a few minutes alone with Isak, where they could just exist quietly in the sunshine and be in love. Like normal people.

Not that anyone is complaining and Isak is smearing foundation all over Even’s jacket, trying to snuggle up whilst still being strapped to the seatbelt.

He feels weirdly buzzed. Excited. Like everything is a little brighter, in more colour.

He has a boyfriend who actually wants to be with him. Who doesn’t mind all the crazy that comes with doing this. Who is threading his fingers through his hair and letting him be small and needy and cuddly with him.

Isak Valtersen can’t help it. He is smiling into Even’s chest and he’s not even worried. Because it’s quite scary how easy life becomes when you don’t have to do things on your own.


	18. EIGHTEEN

Isak is exhausted, but so pumped on adrenaline that he can barely string a sentence together. For once he is relieved that he’s not in charge of himself, that he doesn’t even have to think about in which direction his feet need to take him. Not when Magnus hand is steady on his shoulder and Mahdi has a firm grip on his elbow and the familiar sight of Jonas shoulder with the dark unruly curls resting on his immaculate suit is keeping a firm pace in front of him. He just lets himself be led, hoping that Even will be right behind him. Steady in his footfall and ready for him just to curl in on.

Even calls him ‘touch-starved’, which kind of makes sense. Not that he doesn’t get affection, because he does. It was something Mrs Fossbakken was strict with. Every day started with a hug. A cuddle and a little chat about how he was feeling. It’s strange how he doesn’t really miss his parents, but he misses Mrs F. Not that he was special in anyway, because Mrs F has tutored kids all over the world and is currently working for some Arab prince in Dubai, having daily lessons on private beaches and sending him postcards from exotic locations. She’s old-school like that, but the simple fact that she remembers him, that she sends him a card every birthday (however old he pretends to be) and asks to speak to him on the phone whenever she calls to check up on Magnus, makes him feel all warm inside. She still adores him, and he loves her right back.

The hug thing rubbed off though, and they still all do it. Every day they hug. All of them. However much Linn huffs and puffs and pretends to rub off the invisible boy-bacteria they seem to infect her with. She needs those little moments just as much as Isak craves them. He didn’t realize how much he needed this though, the daily sessions at night when he finds himself crawling all over Even until he is pretty much under his skin, rubbing himself against him to erase the day, the invisible scents of other people that have stuck to his skin, until there is only them. Even and Isak. A mess of bodies and limbs tied up in invisible twists on an impersonal generic hotel bed.

Which is kind of all he can think off right now, stumbling awkwardly along some back corridor of yet another convention centre hosting the same old pompous arse-kissing film festival shite.

He won another award, which he kind of expected since Sana had made him memorize the people to thank in his acceptance speech. Half of them he kind of vaguely remembers, producers and investors and people who somehow got him where he ended up, when in reality he just wanted to thank his people. The people that make it worth his while to wake up in the mornings.

Like Jonas who is waffling on about changes to schedules and some fan convention he has been asked to attend in Nashville. Wanting to offer exclusive access to Isak Valtersen with a meet and greet, Q and A , and of course the inevitable photo op thing with autographs and overexcitable fans. He used to do loads of them early on in his career and the Parallel Universe film from years ago still has some of the lesser known actors doing the rounds at these kind of things, since apparantly Sci-Fi films with the main actors pretty much taking the piss out of the script have some kind of cult status in the right circles. The fact that his fee is substantial and the cost to the fans for the honour of a few minutes in his presence runs into the thousand brackets makes Isak cringe with embarrassment. He would rather give things away, like the competition winner meets, or the secret facetime things he sometimes offers up for people who have been seemed worthy of his time.  He would do it if Henrique did it with him, that's his terms. Because hanging with Henrique would make the effort worth it, but he doubts that is something their relentless schedules would allow.

This week has made him see things differently, almost like he has been asleep for months. He is so fucking grateful that Jonas has his back. Honestly. Because if anyone needs to get laid it’s Jonas and he makes a mental note to fucking force him to book a holiday when they get back to LA. Maybe a week in Cancun for himself and Mahdi where they don’t have to look after anyone but themselves and can indulge in as much tits pussy and alcohol as they can handle without thinking of the consequences. He needs to make sure the LA house is signed over to Magnus. He hears what Magnus talks about to his wife over the phone when he thinks nobody is listening. The concerns over schools. Finding a home they can afford. Paying the bills with 3 kids under 9, and a college fund that apparently, they keep borrowing from. It’s not fair, and Isak has slipped. Not that it is his responsibility, but it is. These are his godchildren, and the last thing they should have to worry about is losing the only place they have ever known as home. It’s a fucking house, and he could own 10 if he just took an interest in property investment like Mr Disi keeps suggesting. The house should be Magnus and Vilde’s and he is kicking himself that he hasn’t thought to get it organized until now.

And Even. He needs to talk to Even, because there is just not enough time left until they hit LA tomorrow and shit will start to become real. Because as far as Isak knows, Even has nowhere to go, apart from that surgery that Isak keeps pushing to the back of his mind,  and no job and Isak hasn’t even thought about where he is actually going to sleep two weeks from now. Except that wherever he sleeps will be where Even sleeps. Fuck it. He is going to stick to Even like glue.

It almost makes his head spin with all the things he hasn’t even thought of organizing. And knowing Jonas, he will have already booked and planned and organized without a thought of his own wellbeing and time off. Because that is what Jonas does. And Jonas needs to get laid. Like next week.

It’s exhausting. He barely has to lift a finger doing what he does, and he can imagine what Jonas and Even feel like, being on the phone almost constantly, dealing with all the things they have to deal with. Even who looks a million dollars in the suit Eskild had delivered for him, all sharp and edgy. He had even let Linn do his hair, sweeping it off his face with ease whilst she snarled at him to get a fucking haircut. Even is not getting a haircut. Isak will forbid it. Because all that hair is his and it smells nice and is soft around his hands and so what that Even complains that he can’t even get out of bed in the mornings without Isak ripping half his hair out in protest? Isak likes to hold onto something in his sleep. And Even is all he needs.

He never used to sleep. Never used to need it. Not like now when he falls into some kind of comatose exhaustion every night, empty and sated and safe and content in a way he can’t ever remember feeling. Fuck he needs this.

He loves the feeling of curling up against Even in the car. It’s almost like all the stress and anxieties that used to occupy his body just slip away as soon as he smells the familiar scent of Even. Soft shampoo and the sharp wafts of the deodorant he uses and a little faint reminder of his own aftershave. That Even shamelessly steals from the plastic bag of toiletries that live in Isak’s bag.

It’s almost homely in a way, the quiet chatter in the van, Linn’s laughter in the back, ribbing Mahdi for his impeccable taste in women (he would shag Samira Wiley, Marry Michelle Rodriguez and doesn’t quite know if he could go through with kissing Kendall Jenner) whilst Linn is adamant that Alicia Vikander would be a good shag, as long as Michael Fassbender was in on it. Because hello. Michael Fassbender. And they all giggle quietly as Linn goes into a rant about the kink of stubble, which Isak would happily have joined in on if he wasn’t too tired to get the muscles in his face to actually connect to his mouth and make it speak.

‘’Jonas, can I put in a request?’’ Even kind of half slurs from somewhere above Isak’s head.

‘’You can, but I’m still the boss’’ Jonas shouts out from the front, whilst his phone rings again and Jonas huffs and for once declines the call.

‘’Can we put a veto in for any more photoshoots on top of fucking skyscrapers? I mean WTF, If I have to watch Isak here hang out the window from however many fucking floors up again, I probably won’t survive it. What is it with photographers and their height kinks?’’

‘’Fuck me, I don’t know. The shots look cool though?’’ Jonas laughs, and it’s masses of free promo for the Hancock Tower Tilt Experience. There will be girls lining up in droves tomorrow to recreate that particular photo. Did you see the proofs? I’ll send them to your phone, hang on.’’

Seconds later the pictures light up Even’s screen, and even though they are small he can see it. Isak’s sharp profile over the skyline, the purple shirt open to his navel just giving enough glimpse of the skin underneath, and the angle making it seem that Isak is actually falling out the window. It’s brave. A good shoot. He can already see the magazine cover, the photos making the rounds on social media whilst people zoom in to get a closer look at the way his trousers are cut to enhance the meat he is packing below.

His meat. Well it’s Even’s. Because Isak is packing it and Even fucking owns that shit. He keeps trying to tell Isak when his mouth is full of that cock that is so easily slips to the back of Even’s throat, with the neatly trimmed pubes curling into his nose and the faint breathlessness that makes Even hard just thinking about it.

Not that he has to think very long because Isak is almost running down the corridor to their room, falling head first onto the bed before Even has even closed the door behind them.

‘’You will have to undress me’’ Isak whinges from somewhere in the sheets.

‘’Not my job’’ Even laughs. ‘’I am here to support you and assist you during your promotional tour, that does not include removing your clothing.’’

‘’Fuck off’’ Isak giggles back. ‘’I will pay you double if you get my kit off’’

‘’Eskild will kill you if you don’t put your suit back in the packing cube. It’s irreplaceable bespoke tailoring and one of a kind’’ Even singsongs trying to imitate the way Eskild would say it.

‘’I can’t sleep with you if we are not naked.’’ Isak tries, turning his head so he can watch Even. Even who is already unbuttoning his shirt with his belt hanging open, and an unmistakable bulge in his underpants.

‘’All I have to do is pull those bespoke tailored trousers down a little and I could fuck you into oblivion.’’ Even whispers and winks. Then remembering he is still wearing his glasses, so Isak can’t even see it. Although he is smiling and looking damn cute lying there on his stomach still fully dressed in that crushed velvet suit.

‘’It’s a control thing.’’ Isak starts and then he buries his face in the sheets.

‘’what is?’’ Even tries and steps out of his trousers.

‘’The bottoming thing.’’ Isak whispers. ‘’Fuck. It sounded better in my head.’’

‘’You can tell me. It won’t matter, you know I only tease you. I love you whatever we do in bed.’’

‘’I know you do’’ Isak whispers and let’s Even curl around him. Arms pulling at him and Even’s face is in his hair and his neck and on his face and Isak just wants to cry. He’s just tired. Emotional.

‘’Talk to me. I need to understand so I don’t say a load of shite that upsets you, because Isak, I don’t want to upset you. Or hurt you. I just want to be with you and love you. That’s all. Nothing else matters and I don’t fucking care, I mean, if it’s important to you, you can fuck me. I don’t mind. Honestly. I trust you, and you have kind of proved that you know, how to do it. I mean, I trust you. That you would make it good for me. Fuck, I might even like it. I can’t believe I am saying that but I love you Isak and if you want to fuck me I would let you.’’

Even is blushing. Even is fucking blushing and Isak’s smile is so wide that he thinks his cheeks might just split.

‘’It’s a control thing I kind of made up in my head. Since I couldn’t control anything in my life anymore I thought at least I could control sex. That I would always be in control there, and not let anyone else take charge. I owed myself at least that, to have control of something. It’s just a stupid thing but it’s been important to me.’’

Isak’s face is on fire. Seriously. If he thought Even was blushing, well now the sheets will combust as he buries his face back in them. Hoping Even will say something. Because it is hard being honest.

Stupid and childish and selfish and ….Honest.

‘’Thank you for telling me.’’ Even whispers into his hair. ‘’If it’s important to you, then I have no problems with that. And what does it matter anyway, as long as we both get to come in the end? And to be very honest with you, I have no complaints. Zero. And all I want right now is to flip you over and suck your cock until you scream and then go to sleep with the taste of your come in my mouth. How does that sound to you?’’

‘’Fucking perfect’’ Isak whispers. Because his life is. Right now. Fucking perfect.

 


	19. NINETEEN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is the shortest chapter but I ran out of time today before work. I will make up for it tomorrow, promise.

 

 

 

Even must remember to sort this shit out. Because right now he is fucking horny and Isak Valtersen, the actor, with the massive morning wood that has Even’s name all over it, is humping his hip in his sleep and all Even wants to do is have fast and furious morning sex. Seriously.

But he can’t. Because right outside that half-closed door is the unmistakable sound of Linn mixing her face mask shit, along with the faint smell of coffee and he is pretty sure room service just arrived with breakfast along with Magnus who is shouting in Norwegian over the phone to one of his kids alongside the heavy footfall of Jonas pacing the room.

‘’I need to get off’’ Isak mumbles against Even’s mouth, breath full of morning and sleep and Even doesn’t even look away. Just presses his lips to that gorgeous pout and licks into Isak’s mouth whilst his body is saying ‘’fuck it’’.

‘’We will have to be quiet baby’’ Even whispers and Isak whinges with need, rubbing his hard cock against Even’s groin, whilst Even erratically pumps himself and tries to line them up so he can jerk them both off. Which doesn’t quite work. And they are out of lube after Isak gave Even another fingering last night until he pretty much screamed into the pillow and still refused to stick his dick inside him. Well for once Isak was sensible, because they haven’t got any condoms, having used up the one that Even had for some ill-advised attempt at drunk shagging that never led to anything. And it’s not like Even has had time to go condom shopping. And it’s not like Isak is going to go ask Jonas to top up his supply. Not that Isak hasn’t asked before, but Jonas just usually sticks some in his bag, and Jonas probably thinks Even is on it, since Even is sleeping with him, and it’s not like Isak can pop down to CVS on the corner and buy an extra-large pack of rubbers without causing a minor earthquake in the checkout aisle.

And anyway, Isak likes to use a lot of lube when he is playing and that bottle he had was pathetic anyway. Tiny and whatever.

He still moans like a dog in heat when Even sticks his tongue down his throat and laces his fingers around their cocks in some uncoordinated humping eachother fingers attempt and Isak is just so damn horny and Even is frustrated and they are both trying to tonguefuck each other’s mouths and If Isak could only muster up enough sensible thoughts to pull the plug and get his head down there he would suck Even off with his hand jerking himself off with less of an effort than it is to keep Even where he needs him. There is like Even everywhere. Hands and mouth and hair in his eyes and damn the boy is squeaking with need when Isak let’s his cock slip between Even’s thighs. They are not being quiet. They are nowhere near being quiet.

‘’Even. Stop’’ Isak whinges and tries to pull back. Then he dives right back in because it’s no fun not having Even kiss you. And he is kind of right there. Begging for it.

‘’Uhghgsnn,,’’ Apparently Even is trying to speak but there is not much sense coming out of his mouth whilst his head is squashed into the pillow and the dude is now humping Isak’s knee, whilst Isak is trying to unlatch himself from the sweaty body next to him.

‘’Gonna fuck your thighs’’ He whispers and let’s his body crawl over Even’s back, pushing Even’s legs together to form a nice little snug hole. This is always better with lube but that pathetic empty bottle is laughing at him from the floor and Isak will just have to make do with spit. It’s not classy. It’s a little bit disgusting maybe but Even is whimpering and humping the bed and Isak needs to come. Like right now. And beggars can’t be choosers even though Isak is pretty sure he could afford to employ someone just to carry his supply of lube and condoms so he could fuck on demand.

The noise coming out of his throat is almost obscene as he slicks his cock up with spit and lets his dick sink in between Even’s thighs. Fuck he has a nice arse. All plump and firm under Isak’s hand as he guides himself in and out. Slipping a bit to find the right angle then moaning like he can’t believe as Even clamps his legs around him and bucks his hips, finding the optimal angle. Thank god. Because now Even is thrusting back at him and his hand is underneath no doubt getting himself off and all Isak has to do is hold himself up and let himself bounce away to oblivion as his vision starts to blacken. All stars and fuss and silence as his mouth falls open in an invisible scream and orgasms into the blisslivion of thigh-sex heaven. Or whatever. Isak doesn’t care. Doesn’t give a flying fuck about the load moan that escapes his throat or the muffled giggles beneath him where Even’s body is shaking with laughter.

‘’Dude you just totally thigh fucked me into coming. I’ve never done that before, seriously Isak. What the hell was that? I kind of came from you humping my balls and it was fucking awesome. Who the hell needs anal when you have tricks like that up your sleeve?’’ Even is still chuckling, wiping his hand on the sheet, trying to dry up the pool of come obviously covering his palm.

‘’Skills’’ Isak mumbles trying to get his body to function into some kind of state where he can move. Because he is probably getting old, if a quick morning hump is taking every ounce of energy out of his body.

‘’Baby, you have some epic skills’’ Even smiles, still stuck to the mattress underneath him.

‘’I know’’ Isak smiles, his eyes closed and his nose in Even’s neck. Full of sweaty neck hair and morning breath and skin and awesomeness.

‘’And if you could be bothered to stop shagging for 5 minutes we need Isak out for his radio interview with KISS FM Chicago in ten. ‘’ Jonas voice comes from the doorway. ‘’I’m not looking, but I am warning you that I am coming in and dragging Ize out in 2 minutes unless you move. I don’t care who has his cock in who, KISS FM wont be waiting for you since they are LIVE. So get up arsehole.’’

Isak just laughs. Whatever. And Even snuggles back into the pillow as Isak gives his cheek a soft kiss.

‘’Love yoo’’ he singsongs into Even’s cheek.

‘’Gimme Five minutes’’ Even mumbles back. ''Just another five minutes.''


	20. TWENTY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional triggerwarnings for this chapter , Even's illness takes a turn for the worse.

His head is pounding again, with that band of steel surrounding his forehead making his vision dart with white flashes and his teeth gnash. He’s sure he took his meds. He has drunk so much water that he has had to pee twice this morning already. His head still isn’t playing ball and he has ended up sitting in the back of the van with a black beanie pulled down over his eyes to try to get some kind of relief from it all. Not that he is much help to anyone right now since his phone is pinging relentlessly with messages that Even can’t even muster up the strength to look at.

It’s not that his job is hard in any way. He deals with peoples questions and invites and idea’s Sana run past him and practical shit that he passes on to Jonas. He just fields jobs and passes on messages. Makes sure that everything is clear with Jonas, and that he knows what they are doing. It’s not like he has to use his brain. Which is good because right now his brain is fucking useless at the simplest of tasks, like the fact that he might just throw up breakfast on his lap any minute because he is so fucking nauseous that it’s not even funny.

It could be his head. Or it could be the fact that the van driver is driving the thing like he fucking stole it. Swinging aimlessly between lanes whilst Jonas is yapping on the phone and Isak is snoring gently with his head on Even’s lap.

The other thing is that sitting down in uncomfortable. Not that Even really minds. Honestly. Because that shit was fucking unreal.

In all honesty Even has missed out. Big time. Whilst at the same time he almost gets teary-eyed and overemotional because he waited for Isak. Because Isak is amazing. Isak loves him. And Isak has a magic unicorn cock that makes Even see stars. Millions of them shining tight and bright in Even’s messed up head as Isak took him apart. Millimetre by millimetre of fingers and slick lube until Even was screaming in frustration and bliss and humping the sheets whilst tears where streaming down his cheeks and Isak was right there, so so good, kissing away all of Even’s fears until there was only them. Isak all the way inside him, rocking against his back, nuzzling into his neck whispering all the little words Even needed to hear. All the little grunts and moans that were everything in that moment.

He’s not even embarrassed to admit it. It was like some kind of messed up romantic porn shit, and Even doesn’t regret a single syllable of all the crap he spilled out over the pillow whilst Isak ploughed into him, fucking him relentlessly until there was nothing left. The nothingness of the world disappearing around them until the world was full of stars. Bright and shiny and relentless and making life as they lived it explode into atoms. There had been nothing left to say. Nothing left of anything.

Just breaths and bodies and love. So much love. Because Even doesn’t think he could love anything more than this ridiculous man who is snoring on his lap.

They have a few more days. Events and the AMC Q&A event with fan meets and another press thing and the open commentary showing of ‘’Nothingness’’ and another wrap party. And some other party. Party Party Party.

Then they are moving on to Las Vegas for some private event that they are paying Isak and Christoffer obscene amounts of money to show their faces at. Some jewellery launch and another fundraising thing.

After that Even is going straight to hospital to have his head rearranged, under the hopefully careful supervision of some insurance appointed surgeon that hopefully knows what she is doing. He is trying to forget it. Push it to the very back of his mind. The fact that he might not survive it. The worries that some quirk of fate will take all of this away from him. And from Isak. Because he has no doubt that losing Even would hurt Isak as much as it would hurt Even to lose the beautiful creature that has stolen what is left of his functioning body. Because Even feels like he is about to break. Lose his shit in a mess of emotions and worries and the fact that he has nowhere to go hasn’t even crossed his mind. He needs to go wherever Isak is. Fuck his damn credit card. Fuck his dwindling bank account. Fuck everything. For once sensibility is overrated when all he wants is this. This. There is nothing else he needs as long as he can just have this.

Even is not religious. Even doesn’t believe in shit. But he kind of wants to pray. Ask for help from whoever claims to be in charge up there. Please let me have this. Please don’t take away the only good thing I have left. Please just let me have this. Let me keep this. Let me keep him.

The van swerves dangerously again and Even pulls his hat further down his face. Tries to hide the tear that rolls down his cheek. Please. Please just let me be happy.

 

It’s almost become routine now, the way they do things. How Even effortlessly fits into their setup. How Magnus flanks Even’s left. Even’s arm around Isak’s waist. Mahdi’s hand on Isak’s shoulder. Jonas in front. Linn taking the back. Keeping her eyes out for them all whilst being almost invisible.

There are fans. A few paps shouting. Random people smiling and taking pictures whilst Isak plasters his plastic smile on his face and waves around. Signs a few autographs and poses for selfies with a few lucky random people whilst the paps click away with their lenses almost up in his face.

Even’s name is shouted too, questions hurled at him whilst he hides behind his glasses and is too shell-shocked to even smile. This is not his life. This is not his time. He is more than happy to hide behind Isak, pulling at his waist as he folds himself into the backseat whilst Magnus slams the van door shut behind them.

‘’Good job!’’ Jonas shouts and starts rambling on about schedules and timelines. They are staying in a catered and staffed private house here in LA that he has rented as hotels are just stupid whilst they are for a few days. And apparently they have stayed in this house before as there are mumbles and questions fired and Magnus wants to stay at home with his family even though he loves Conchita’s cooking at the house and Jonas is telling him to go fuck himself since he is still working and Isak is curling into Even and Even can’t even think.

 

He is buzzing. Yet his head is cloudy. Like he can’t think. He can’t even string a sentence together as he feels a line of drool start to escape from his mouth. He can’t. Fuck.

He tries to speak. Tries to grab at Isak. Tries.

The stars are back. It’s just this time they are not bright and welcoming. These stars are harsh and frightening. Covering everything in light that is far too bright.

He thinks of Isak. Tries to say sorry. Tries to say I tried. Tries to say oh fuck Isak, I’m so fucking sorry.

Then everything is black.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, calm down. You are getting all the chapters today. And would I kill off Even? Seriously people? Next chapter will be up in 5 mins. Sit tight.


	21. Chapter 21

 

 

‘’Who is in charge of Mr Bech Næsheim?’’

The doctor is back. A pretty Indian lady with a stern face and 'Dr Sinha' followed by more letters and qualifications than Isak can comprehend, neatly typed on her ID card.

‘’Who is his boss?’’ she continues whilst Isak looks bewildered and Jonas is for once looking up from his phone.

 

‘’I am’’ Isak says and stands up. ‘’I am responsible for him’’

‘’I’m Jonas Vasquez and I am the manager of …’’

Isak pushes him away.

‘’No Jonas. I am the guy who runs this. It’s down to me. Let me do this.’’

 

Isak needs this. He needs to feel that he is the one. The one who tries to make this make sense. Make it something more than the stabbing pain in his chest that has overwhelmed him since that moment when Even fell over. When his body just threw the towel in and gave up.

 

He doesn’t remember the screams. The panic when they tried to get him back up in the seat. The shouting and erratic driving and the crazy U-turns and the ambulance and the paramedics who just took Even away. They took him away from Isak and life will never be the same.

‘’What were you thinking?’’ Dr Sinha almost shouts in frustration. ‘’I wrote clear medical notes for him. He was supposed to be on light duties only. Office work. Filing. Answering phones. Sitting down and having decaf coffee and being kind to his body until we could operate and take some of the pressure off the retinal vessel occlusion. He wasn’t supposed to galivant around the country in a clearly high pressure high stress environment.’’

‘’I didn’t know’’ Isak whispers. ‘’I never saw his notes. It’s no excuse, he was assigned to us by Paramount, and we just went with their appointment. He was doing well, and he was fine. As far as we knew he was managing his medication and he wore his dark glasses all the time to protect his eyes. He wasn’t careless or stupid.’’

 

He wasn’t. He had managed and tried to look after himself. It still hadn’t been enough. It still hadn’t stopped his body from breaking. Suffering a major stroke that had almost taken his life.

‘’We need to contact his next of kin and get someone to come stay with him. He is stable for now but his condition could worsen and improve in equal measures.’’ Dr Sinha is spreading out sheets of paper on the table, handing Isak a pen.

 

‘’Who is his next of kin?’’ She sighs.

‘’Me’’ Isak says, His voice firm. ‘’His parents are abroad. I will call them as soon as we are done. But it’s me. I’m his partner. He’s all I have. I will stay with him. ‘’

‘’Your name is not on his paperwork’’ Dr Sinha quips back. ‘’He has his father listed as his next of kin’’

 

‘’I will get the updated paperwork sent through from Ms Bakkoush from Northern Lights Management. She has the contracts for Mr Bech Næsheim that clearly has Mr Valtersen listed as his partner and next of kin. It will be emailed to you within the hour. I will contact Paramount and ensure the correct paperwork is provided by them too. Mr Valtersen will stay with Mr Bech Næsheim, and we will arrange to fly over Mr Bech Næsheim’s parents and sister as soon as humanly possible.’’

 

Isak is grateful for Jonas. He is pretty sure that there is no such paperwork in existence but Sana can fix most shit. She will know how to. She will help. He is grateful for every second he gets. Every second that his voice is steady and he is able to speak without collapsing with tears. He is grateful for Linn who is already copying down the number for Even’s sister into his phone. He is grateful for Magnus steady strokes on his back. Mahdi’s silence on the chair next to them. He is grateful.

 

‘’Mr Bech Næsheim’s wellbeing is my main concern, there will be no drama on this ward. No press or staff or anything of the sort. Mr Valtersen can stay for now, only two people with him at a time. And there is security 24 hours a day on the ward so you boys can stand down for now. I am serious people, any drama and you will all be barred. Mr Bech Næsheim’s care is my responsibility and I will not tolerate any kind of bullshit. Is that clear?’’

Apparently, Dr Sinha is not to be messed with, and for once Isak feels good about someone else being on their side. She’s good. And she will let him be with Even. That’s good. That’s good for now.

‘’Can I go to him?’’ He almost squeaks out. Because he needs to be where Even is. Please.

‘’Paperwork first. Rules second. Then I will take you to see Mr Bech Næsheim.’’ She says, her voice still stern.

‘’Please’’ He whispers.

His life was not supposed to be like this. It was all going to well. Things were just so good. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

 

He doesn’t fulfil the last dates of the ‘’Nothingness of Light’’ promotional tour. Instead he lives in Even’s jeans that are far too long in the legs, and wears Even’s old worn out t-shirts. He lives of coffee and food that people bring him, and sleeps on a hospital fold down cot next to Even’s bed. All whilst Even drifts between days when he almost sounds like himself, and other days when he is barely there.

He pulls out of the ‘’Country of Lies’’ film, well Sana does. She didn’t even ask him just passed on the desperate Email from the production team begging him to reconsider. He doesn’t. It’s the right time. The right thing to do.

 

His life was never going to be the same anyway. It had to end, and somehow now is good. Now is the time to start living. To end the charade of the impossible life of Isak Valtersen and start living for real. In the real world.

 

He takes charge. He doesn’t break and disintegrate and cry. He doesn’t need to, because there is just so much he needs to learn. Things he needs to do. People to look after.

It turns out that Even’s parents are the least of his worries, a kind older couple who smother him in hugs and kindness and speak to him in Norwegian and calls him ‘’søten’’ like they have known him all their lives. Even’s sister is kind. Scatty and funny and immediately adds him to the family WhatsApp chat and texts him in the middle of the night to see how he is. Sends him funny memes and virtual hug gifs until his cheeks are aching from smiling through his what should have been tears.

Life moves on and Isak is surprisingly fine. He doesn’t let himself feel. Doesn’t let himself stop. Because if he stops he might just break. Fall into a heap on the floor and cry until there is nothing left of him.

 

It’s early spring when they finally fly home. When Even’s legs are starting to let him walk on them, and the drop in his face is barely there anymore. When he can eat without drooling on the napkin that Isak holds against his cheek and his eyes don’t randomly water with embarrassment.

 

Even has been strong. But Isak is stronger. He has to be.

 

Not that this isn’t a role he is playing a little too well, because Isak refuses to fake it anymore.

He lets himself cry when they fold the brand-new duvet around themselves in the Ikea bed he ordered online and built himself whilst Even laughed at his pathetic attempts of reading the instructions. He cries when he throws Even’s damn wheelchair in the communal skip behind the local supermarket. He never wants to see the thing again. And Even hasn’t used it for days now. Hobbling around and hurling abuse at Isak if he even tries to grab his arm.

 

He cries at little things. Tears of relief. Because he can do this. Because he has control. Because he has no fucking control at all in the end. Not a bit.

Because sometimes life kicks you in the balls. And sometimes life is good.

He cries because there are so many things that are good. Life is good.

So, he lets it be. And Even lets him cry. Let’s his body be held and stroked and cuddled and kissed until there is nothing left. Nothing but the darkness outside their bedroom windows, brightly lit up by the nothingness of stars.

 


	22. EPILOGUE

A few months later

 

 

‘’I’m so fucking drunk Ize’’

Jonas is slurring. No Jonas is not slurring, he is so wasted that it is actually beyond funny.

‘’Jonas, why have you done this to yourself? Come on dude.’’ Isak is stone cold sober. It would have been funnier if he had been at least a bit tipsy. Then he might have seen the funny side of Jonas drinking himself into oblivion in a hotel room on the other side of the world, but sober Isak feels like a bloody mother hen, wondering who he can call to make sure Jonas sleeps on his side so he doesn’t choke to death on his own vomit.

 

Because Isak is all about being responsible and adult these days. Well that is funny. Honestly.

 

‘’Jonas’’ He whinges. ‘’You are making me worried now.’’

‘’Just having a pity-party. Being stupid and sad. I’m old Ize. Old and single and desperate and horny and you are not here to hug me better.’’

‘’You don’t need me to hug you better. What happened to the Finnish bird? The hot chick you had assisting you last week?’’ Isak is the worst friend ever. Jonas went on about this girl for an hour a week ago, and Isak can’t even remember her name.

‘’Got a boyfriend. In bloody Fnlnd..  Finland. Doesn’t wanna hook up with me. She’s so pretty though.’’

‘’We need to find you a nice girl. Someone who will adore you and love you forever.’’

‘’Don’t want a girlfriend. Just want a cuddle.’’

‘’There must be someone you can cuddle Jonas’’ Isak is half serious too.

 

Jonas is on the second leg of The Pim’s Planet world tour, The Pim’s being one of the world’s biggest boybands, a bunch of oversexed spoilt brats with no sense, and Jonas is the freaking tour manager with a staff of 60 underneath him. One of them must surely need a hug. A good cuddle session, and a couple of hours of shooting the shit until Jonas falls asleep.

 

‘’I miss yoo’’ Jonas almost cries out. ‘’I miss us being young and stupid and sleeping all cuddled up because we were both scared of the dark. Well you were more scared than me but we used to love eachother. ‘’

 

It sounds sad coming from Jonas. Because Jonas loves him. And Isak loves Jonas right back. Always have. Always will.

 

‘’We still love eachother Jonas. Bro. You will always be my snuggle bunny’’ Isak doesn’t mean to take the piss, but he needs to make Jonas laugh. Get him out of this funk he Is in.

‘’Wanna be yor schnugglebunny’’ Jonas snorts. ‘’I miss working for you, it was so easy. You were always easy Ize. Lots of fun. These kids are spoilt dickheads and I feel like their bloody Dad, more than their mate. And they are fucking vegetarian. I miss steak Ize. I even miss Linn. Where the hell is Linn when I need her?

‘’Linn is in France doing Cannes with that Danish actress. You know the one, the skinny one with the hair. Fuck I can’t even remember her name. I’m losing the plot Jonas. ‘’

‘’No idea Ize. I used to know everyone in the film industry. EVERYONE Ize. Now I know every pop song in the UK top 50. I’m not even cool. I can’t sing. I can play guitar though. But not on stage, because I’ll fall over.’’

‘’Jonas. Shut up and go to sleep. Please. I’ll stay on the line, just lie down and go to sleep.’’

‘’No, no sleep. Wanna talk to you. Did yoo hear about Mahds? Got a new gig.’’

‘’Really? Wow. He’s doing so well. Who is he minding?’’

‘’Kudzii… what they called? Girl band. Cute little things. Short skirts who play heavy metal dance tracks. Kudziib….’’

‘’Kudzibisa’’ Isak fills in. ‘’Good band. Mahdi will love that. Hanging around with a bunch of cool chicks instead of us old fuddy duddy dudes.’’

 

Jonas giggles make Isak laugh. Feel a little bit better about not being where Jonas needs him to be. Because to be very honest Isak misses Jonas like a lost limb. Desperately and violently sometimes. But his life is better now. He feels honest. In control. And he if he is really truthful with himself, Isak is happy. He is really really happy. So is Mahdi who now runs his own security detail in LA, and still travels the world. Happy as a pig in shit as he says himself.

 

‘’Did you see Magnus new slogan? ‘’Be the boss with the Foss?’’

Jonas doesn’t even reply, just chuckles happily and Isak can hear the tell-tale sign of another can of beer being opened. Slow noises of drinking and swallowing mixing with Jonas deep laughter.

‘’Magnus is doing good. Foss Fitness is expanding again, and Vilde has taken on two new dudes this week to cope with demand. She said they both look like Thor. She is trying to keep the brand all scandi like, apart from that Yousef they employed. The one with the big muscles and the pecs. Looks all sweaty in the advert. Vilde thinks he’s hot. But then Vilde thinks everyone is hot. Vilde is a hoot. I miss Vilde too. And Linn. Where is Linn?’’

‘’Jonas, you’re drunk. Go to sleep.’’

‘’I love you Ize’’

‘’I love you too Jonas, now lie down and go to sleep’’

‘’I hate Even. He stole you away.’’

‘’ You love Even. You tell him every day, remember? When you text him?’’

‘’He’s fun. He texts me. You never text me.’’

‘’I ring you instead and send you pictures. And tag you on insta. And send you cute photos of the dogs.’’

‘’Even sends me cute pictures of you. And the dogs.’’

‘’I can send you cute pictures of myself too. But that would be stupid Jonas. You know what I look like.’’

‘’But I miss yooooou!’’

Jonas is getting tired. Thank God. His speech slower and Isak can tell he’s lying down. The muffled sounds of the phone being tucked under his ear. Squashed against the pillow as Jonas tries to get comfortable.

 

‘’You need to come and visit Jonas. Come and stay when you have done the next leg. You need to meet Eva, the new nurse. She’s hot. And she is single, but she has terrible taste in men. She thinks Chris Schistad is God’s gift to women. Even and I keep trying to put her right and tell her that there are much hotter men out there. Like Alfie Strande. Have you seen him in that new Harry Potter film? Fuck Jonas, for a red-head he is bloody on fire in that! You should watch it.’’

‘’Not into Alfie Strande. I could be into this Eva though. Tell me about Eva. Has she got big tits?’’

‘’Don’t be a dick. She’s funny and happy and makes Even laugh. And she makes him walk around the lake every day, and even has him eating Broccoli. He bloody hates broccoli but she makes him eat it and she reads him these books, I haven’t got the patience to read to him, but she reads and makes up all these voices and it’s really funny. You would love her Jonas. Please come and stay. Meet Eva. Drink a load of wine and make Even laugh. Please.

‘’Can I have the room facing the lajkk. Lajk. Lake. I like the lake.’’

 

Isak can’t help it. He loves Jonas. Easy sweet gorgeous Jonas. And he misses him too. Misses the easiness of life when Jonas just looked after him. Took care of his every need. Not like now when Isak does everything himself.

 

Well almost. Apart from his finances that Mr Disi still expertly handles, and Sana who still nags him about returning to work, and Eva who looks after the medical bits that Isak just hasn’t got the knowledge to do himself, Isak is pretty much the boss. In charge of his life and the ramshackled cabin they have turned into a home. Well it used to be a bit run down, but Even had a vision, and they have kind of just gone with it. Turned it into some wooden glass palace full of balconies and decking and a glass fronted open plan kitchen with a view to die for. Honestly. Isak still can’t believe how lucky he is when he goes to bed at night watching the treetops sway in the dusky light outside their bedroom window.

They live in the middle of nowhere an hour outside Oslo with just the dogs for company and a steady stream of random visits from people who they love and adore. It’s a simple manageable life that Isak is proud to say he is in charge of.

 

He has become a pretty awesome cook with the aid of internet shopping deliveries and YouTube tutorials, and Eva goes through the menu with him every week to make sure they are getting their vegetables and fibres and superfoods and boosting their brain matter and all the shite Eva rabbits on about. He appreciates it though. Loves their little chats over recipe websites and medical research notes, whilst Even huffs and puffs beside them and moans that he is not having kale smoothies. Nope. Not happening. Like ever. Because he just won’t eat that shite whatever Isak and Eva say. And he keeps threatening to go to LA and get Magnus back home so Magnus can defend him and back him up because Magnus Loves Even. Which Eva and Isak apparently don’t when they try to feed him crap like that.

 

Not that Isak relents on his rules of keeping Even chilled and fit and healthy. Because that is now his main job. He wakes up the happiest man on earth because of the mop of messy hair that covers his face most mornings. The faint scent of Even’s morning breath. The warm skin that surrounds Isak through the night. He wakes up the happiest man on earth because Even is there and there is nothing in the world that will ever take Even away from him. Ever. Not as long as Isak has his marbles and keeps looking after Even, making sure he takes his rehabilitation seriously and looks after his vision and takes his meds and sees his specialist in Oslo once a month.

Funnily enough Even lets him do it, pretend he actually knows what he is doing, when he knows full well he is full of shit sometimes. Even still just smiles at him and curls into his embrace. Whispers that he loves him more than the stars in the sky. More than the raindrops that smash relentlessly against the glass windows. More than the 1000 mosquitoes that are buzzing outside their front door. He loves him more than the moon and the stars. More than the birds and the beetles and the ants that are relentless in their quest to build a nest under their kitchen sink.

He loves him more than the stupid smoothies Isak tries to make him drink. Loves him more than the freebie clothes that Eskild still has delivered. Not that they go anywhere to show them off or get papped around the woods where they live, because that life is long gone. Their lives now revolve around books and music and films and ideas of how they can make life better. How they can find new little projects to invest in. How they can change lives and lift things up. Make people smile.

They love their dogs. The messy bunch of mongrels they adopted from the dog rescue centre nearby. Even loves Isak more than the dogs. He keeps reminding him. Every morning. Every night.

Even loves Isak. Isak loves Even. And life is good. Life is so very good.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew. That was that. The Nothingness of Stars is done. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did despite the over sentimental ending. Haha. Well we all need a little fluff don't we? (Cries desperatley in Norwegian)
> 
> Thank you for reading. Thank you for being awesome and commenting. Thank you for pushing me along when I need it. 
> 
> I am aiming to try to finish Infinity next but I am itching to start that other story so sit tight. Eeeeek!
> 
> All the love always S. xxxx
> 
> Find me on twitter Tumblr and Insta under @sophiasoames.


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